I Wwill Try Two Fiix You Act 1
by Bloody Wolf Girl327
Summary: This story is written for my fabalous friend RyMagnatar who gave me some good advice to planning out story lines. :D Triggers: Mystery, fluff, comedy, drama, gory near the end of the act, abuse referenced, cursing, sexual references, Humanstuck. Other Mentioned Relationships: KuzMeu, LatKan, KarNep, KarTer, RufHor
1. Act 1: Part 1

_1:13 PM Thursday, June 11: Three Hours Before… _

⇒Be the devious dirty blonde haired guy texting on his phone

You are now the dirty blonde texting on his phone. You are clueless to your surroundings as you near the yellow crosswalk over the street. You are not far from your home, but all your attention is being consumed to your mobile phone. Or more like the newly received texts on your phone are making you oblivious to your surroundings.

The embarrassed, angry texts you're scoring from your boyfriend every few seconds are too irresistibly cute to ignore replying back to or looking at. These constant heart-felt hate messages are going to be saved and used wisely for a later guilt trip on him. For now they're just funny to re-read and adorable to look at.

You save them in your 'w1n5' file made specifically for him as you idly walk forward. You barely hear, "OH MY JEGUS!" shouted loudly from a familiar voice, but clearly hear it continue on yelling, "MITUNA!", as you get yanked back suddenly by the back of your shirt.

You instantly feel the hot gush of wind breeze over your pores from the two inches of air separating you and a zooming car's side mirror…

You realize that you almost became road kill as your eyes follow after the vehicle driving quickly away from the almost transpired crime scene.

Your specially designed red and blue three d glasses are luckily just jerked down your face, while your grip had tightened on your phone. You were semi-conscious of dropping it could cause it to break during the action, and delete all your undocumented black mailing materials.

People know you, and you knew people. You need that info.

You are shivering and sweat forms on your forehead. You're wide eyed with fear and panic right now, because holy shit you almost got ran over by a fucking car.

No wait.

Not just by a car. A **_minivan_**_._

A **_MINIVAN _**_almost_ made **you** road kill on your **BIRTHDAY**… What load of fucking bull shittery nonsense was _that_ supposed to be?!

You can already tell this is going to be a shitty birthday, so the reader is going to try and be someone else in this time frame.

⇒Be Someone Else in This Time Frame

_1:13 PM Thursady, June 11: Three Hours Before… _

You are someone else or to be more specific, the gelled-back chestnut haired dude standing outside at the back end of his job's building.

You have tooken off the thick-stained, protective coveralls, you call a work suit that you bought for your messy career. You got tired of washing and replacing oil stained, grimed up clothes from the dirt on the shop's floors and brought in cars.

Your regular clothes are denim blue jeans and white or black t-shirts, and you look **_good _**in 'em.

You're on your second five minute break you've taken today. You are currently leaning up against the rough, cool brick wall of the building in the summer heat, and a persona completing gimmick cigarette in your mouth.

You are one Cool Cat.

⇒Be The Cool Cat

You already are the Cool Cat, but your image of being a 50's greaser or a punk in the wrong time period is being ruined by the red blush of angry embarrassment scrawled across your face as you mess with your mobile phone.

You are preoccupied by typing and sending irritated text messages to your perverted boyfriend for messing with you at work. He knows better than to start texting you at the auto shop about how he's going to be striping you down for his birthday gift the next time he sees you!

What discomforts you most about this is he would do it. You know from experience he'll willingly stay true to it, especially if faced up to his word. He's done it once before when you were at a coworker's party.

Your first mistake was you started texting him from boredom. This party was mandatory to go to for your job and it did not interest you to be involved chatting with your fellow workers and their gossiping wives. Your second mistake was when you had set up a challenge for him from habit and irritation caused by him and the party. Texting first, he wouldn't dare come to the party since it was employees' and family only, and secondly, he would not be stripping you, but you finally shredding the clothes off of him the next time you saw him. Final sealing-the-deal mistake you made was when you replied to his text.

From: My-tuna

Subject: 837

To: Cronus

YOU W4N7 2 837 0N 7H47.

_Message Sent_

From: Cronus

Subject: 8ET?

To: My-tuna

I vwas more than 8ETTING on it.

I AM CHALLENGING YOU.

_Message_ Sent

From: My-tuna

Subject: CH4114N63 4CC3P73D

To: Cronus

533 YOU 500N.

_Message Sent _

These texts must have pushed just the right buttons on him, because after the next forty minutes of non-repliant silence from his last text, he was at the party, you were in his arms upstairs in an unfamiliar bedroom with your shirt ripped half-way off your body.

You thought he was bluffing.

Whether you both were alone to begin with him first or after dragging you upstairs into the guest room, you'll never know. You only know you both were alone after a literally breath taking kiss, your shirt ripped off of you, and your half-lidded, lust-filled half-conscious eyes warily glanced around your surroundings for people out of worry.

You automatically start blushing anytime you think about that night, and Mituna knows. He knows how you feel about it, and he loves to teasingly remind you of it _anytime_ he feels it's the right period of day to make you flush red in the face.

When you went back to work at the small businessing auto shop the next day, everything was the same at work. Though your boss did an off schedule mandatory inspection of everybody's work area that day, everyone acted no differently than you regularly thought they did… except, Meulin Leijon. Whenever you spotted her visiting the garage for the working nephew of one of the co-owners, Horuss Zahhak, she giggled with shining eyes that radiated out fan girl affection whenever she looked at you. It creeped you out for a little while, but eventually the stare faded away...

Or at least that's what you keep telling yourself.

You're generally okay with Meulin, her kitty cat attitude, and keen intuition. She makes it a habit of giving pointers to your boyfriend on what could additionally make you "purr". This tends to pisses you off, when she helps him and he actually follows the advice, but unnerves you knowing that it actually works. Mituna thinks it's hilarious as hell.

For a deaf girl she is very sharp on listening to the status reports of her friends' relationships. Or reading their lips as they speak. She is well known between her friends for shipping them together, even if they're currently dating someone. She's a nice girl overall, but behind that entire cute, nice-girl personality is a devious side hidden in plain sight.

You fail to notice the creaky sound of the back building's rusty door open, but hear the last few warning footsteps scuttling towards you over the gravel floor. Startled you turn quick enough towards the shuffling sound of feet on gravel, to land flatly on your back from the force of one, Miss little kitten, Meulin Leijon. Speak of the she-devil.

"Ouf!" escapes your lips as she pins you to the floor giggling. You raise a questioning eyebrow and a sly smile as she speaks in a giggly tone, "What, cat got your tongue Cronus?" Your fake cigarette has fallen out from your mouth to lie beside you, and your phone is tightly held in your grasping hand. God damn, does this girl have to have so much power to her tackle hugs?

"No, but a cute kitten does hawve me dovwn on the ground." in a calm, slight suggestive tone. A smirk plays at your lips as you tease her. You're holding back on the comments you could be spouting.

She giggles at you with a mischievous tone adding to the witticism, "Purr-sobily, but I'm not one to really fur-lirt with Mituna's adventurous mouse, rather purr-lay with him fur fun."

Your smirk grows a little wider, "Oh vwell, you don't knovw vwhat an adwventure you vwouldd be missing out on kitten. I'd be a ride you vwouldn't forget. Vwould not forget _anytimesoon_." You lift up your hips into the air a quick moment to emphasis your comment. You couldn't help yourself. You're playing lightly on dangerous waters out of habit and personality trait. You're a continuous flirt by trade.

She giggles, "Oh I might, or not, but you would de-fur-neitly not fur-get anytime soon." Her eyes are daunting, while her face matches the impish ring in her voice, "We **both** know though, what **you** would be receiving fur purr-taking in such im-meow-ral things. Also fur the record, I don't purr you with me." She doesn't leave the uncomfortable position of her sitting on your stomach though.

You place your elbows behind you to lift you up off the ground some, Meulin slides down to sit on your lower thighs and knees, allowing you to rise and setting herself into another comfortable sitting position on you. "Only like to tease vwith you kitten. Vwouldn't dare go beyond that vwith anyone else, but My-tuna."

A nickname you favor for him. He dislikes you using the cute fish pun name. It was created with help from your online internet buddy, Meenah Peixes. She's another Cool Cat in your book, but can be quite a mean Cat'fish' to 'catch'.

"Though~, you have taken it a bit fur-ther than you should've when fur-lirting, as your past escapades have purr-esented." She's giggling and you know exactly what she's talking about. You sigh and nod in agreement.

You have a long history of shiners, three broken noses, countless handprints laced across your face, and poorly planned flirtatious remarks. Attaining these well gossiped about injures from a few friends, random hot chicks at theaters, sometimes dudes, and one or two from your boyfriend. The remarks were all forgiven from friends for a little groveling, but a jealous boyfriend was a different story though.

It took quite a lot more to be in his good graces again. Some of the things you will never speak about. **_EVER_**.

She catches your attention back to her from your incoming thoughts as she starts to speak again. "Hehehee, well to ask what I searched fur you about~" (=^ω^=)

She has a smile like a cute little cat and you pass her a friendly beam back. "Vwhat do you need from me kitten?"

"I need to ask a few purr-sonel questions as a hy-purr-thetical matchmaker!" (=^•ω•^=) Her tone is cheery as the smile on your face slowly forms into a crooked grimace.

"Uhmm… kitten, I am sorry you came to find me about this, but I don't really think you need to be vworried about matching me up vwith someone. I got Mituna to be pairing vwith and… I really like him." You can feel a light blush creeping across your face. You have admitted to yourself it's the other L word of affection you feel for him, but you aren't ready to say it too anyone, yet. You're waiting for the perfect moment out of hesitation of his reply, but today seems just right as a birthday gift for him you're going to tell him how you feel. You hope he loves you too…

Meulin seems to catch on to your drift and blush as her eyes do the familiar fan girl shine to them. She sighs and gives in quite easily to your resistance. Quizzically she speaks again, "Fine, but, how meow-raculous would it be fur you and your favorite boy-fur-iend to come to the park at four o'clock today? We are having a large fur-actor of our fur-iends gathering there to spend time and purr-lan what to do next together." (=^. .^=)

Daily meeting arrangements and group activities were usually planned by Meulin, Horuss, Kurloz, and Kankri. They said this was necessary for the group to stay connected outside of just using the computers and chat blogging each other every day. The group meetings were usually fun, if the group wasn't having relationship tensions hanging in the air.

"I knovw Mituna vwon't be able to make it today vwith it being his birthday. From vwhat I knovw he already has plans made by his parents today, but I could come after vwork." You aren't hyped up about giving your feelings straight out to him with knowing the possibility of being really rejected. You have told each other you like one another and accepted each other, but telling someone you love them is more than you think you could handle if they rejected you. You're more than just a little anxious from your recent arguments, so some time with friends and away from him, might give you the self-preparation you need. Kankri could give you some good advice, if he doesn't start rambling off with the topic.

"After a shower would be much purr-fur-able, if purr-ossible though." (=`ω´=) She says as she pinches her nose closed in an exaggerated fashion and giggles.

You roll your eyes at her and start motioning her to get off of you. "That vwould happen quicker, if you vwould be so kind as to please get off me kitten. I need to get back to vwork, and I'll take a shovwer before I come to the park. Deal?"

She doesn't move off of you and speaks cheerfully, "Okay! Still~, see if Mituna can come after he's done doing, whatever, okay!" (=^ω^=)

You sigh, "I'll text him to see if he can come, alright? Now get off~ I've wasted my entire break." You start gently pushing her off of you. She rolls away from you giggling and pounces up onto her two feet. She would have made a perfect gymnast if she hadn't had the accident that caused her to go deaf.

"You would have wasted it all anyway. I just helped purr-suade you to use it more purr-oficiently." (=^•^=) "Catch you around later!" (=^ω^=) and skips cheerfully off back towards the building's back door.

"Later kitten." You're smiling a bit from the encounter with your cat enthusiastic friend. You always get a little kick from seeing the strong girl. You find her cool for staying positive after she went deaf.

She had an accident when she was younger at her first championship gymnastics tournament, though you don't know much on the details, you think of her as a good example of what a little bit of hope can do as she started up practicing gymnastics again two years after she lost the ability to hear. She's in regular competitions now with the support of Kurloz and Horuss. You don't really keep track on her daily life. You're not one for much gossip and you get more than enough from Kankri, when you're not tuning him out.

You get up off the gravel road and brush off your clothes. You're going to have to change clothes when you get back home. You look at your phone in your hand and start texting your boyfriend as you listen to the rusty back door open and close. You can hear machines and drills starting to be used in the shop for changing, fixing, and replacing car parts. You need to hurry the fuck up and get inside before your boss discovers you are gone from your station.

From: Cronus

Subject: is wvital

Date: June 11, 2006 01:21:22 PM MDT (+)

To: My-tuna

hey.

just got informed by meulin, gathering at park today 4:00 PM.

im going to be there. i vwanna knovw if you can come.

_Message Sent_

From: Cronus

Subject: wvery wvital

Date: June 11, 2006 01:24:11 PM MDT (+)

To: My-tuna

you 8ETTER come to the meeting.

i hawve something important to tell you.

happy birthday my-tuna.

_Message Sent_

⇒Be (My-tuna) Mituna Captor

_1:15 PM Thursady, June 11_

You are Mituna Captor and your rapid heartbeat is echoing through your head between thoughts. You're breathing heavily from shock and the sudden rise of adrenaline through your veins. You feel light headed and a migraine coming on.

**Fucking Minivans**. You god damn** hate **the eight seated vehicles. Mini vans are sad excuses for driving vehicles in your opinion and you would feel rather pathetic to get ran over by one.

If you were ever going to be ran over and had a choice in the matter of what car, you would want it to be a 1970 Chevelle SS (Prowler Yellow with Black Stripes ), or anything else that is not near or below the standards of a Minivan or a Prius.

The Prius is just sad, sad little car. No need for further description.

Though, using general common sense of things; you would rather choose not to be run over by anything at all. Being ran over on your seventeenth birthday and the beginning of summer vacation from school would be a load of fucking bull shittery nonsense.

The angry-filled, rant-screaming of a familiar voice knocks you out of your disconcerted state of mind.

This voice surprises you. Not only because it belongs to the person who pulled you from the street's cars zipping along it, but it is Kankri Vantas's voice! You know he rarely to none existently ever yells, due to Porrium's and her mother's fondly enforced mannerism and radical feminist ideology teachings tooken to the extreme levels when they adopted him.

He is a shining ball of politeness that justifies people's downfalls and masks his own mind's judgmental meanings of his up rises to them in classier ways. He is an up prompt douchebag like all the rest of your friends, but he does seem to give advice when it's helpful to you. Or at least when you're listening to him between his deathly rants.

He spends quite a bit of time with Latula and Cronus. You think he's trying to get with Latula and having problems, so he's going to his gossip listening buddy for advice, _your boyfriend._ He doesn't like coming over when you're around, because you enjoy having _all_ of Cronus's attention when you're with him. Plus you like to repeatedly test a theory you hold on Kankri.

Adding on the fact that Kankri has told you time and time again, he doesn't want you flashing your relationship around him, because it creates, "Triggering visuals of you on Cronus, and there is all that needs to be supplied of reasoning on the subject…" Probably the shortest sentence he has ever told you. It makes you want to do the opposite because it's funny to see him freak the fuck out over it. He says he doesn't swing around the pole, but you doubt that.

This doubt causes you to go over to his house at any chance with your boyfriend and promptly start making out, or sometimes worse on Kankri's favorite plump couch to test your indication. You never seem to get a clear answer.

"WHAT IN ALL THE BLAZING STARS OF DAVID WAS SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU WERE ABOUT TO WALK INTO THE STREET FULL OF ZOOMING CARS THAT COULD, I DON'T KNOW, KILL YOU! OH MY GOG… HOW COULD YOU BE SO IGNORANT?! WELL, NEXT TIME YOU TRY TO KILL YOURSELF, I AM **NOT **GOING TO SAVE YOUR SKINNY RUM-"

"Okay, okay Kankri." Agitation is clear in your tone as you provide the calm down motioning with your hands, "I know I am an unintelligible piece of shit that should know better than to space off while walking around. Thank you for saving my meaningless existence, but could you save me from the rant you got coming for me too? I got important places to be at", you look at the time on your phone and ignore his scowling expression, "in like the next twenty minutes." You cut him off because your friend could ramble to himself all day, and you don't have the time or patience to wait for him to cool down.

He looks short of breath, bewildered, concerned, and fearful. A hint of guilt builds up in you, because you caused the wrecked state he's in…

Your conscious decides you can spend a little time dealing with Kankri's shenanigans for now, but you really need, and want to wrap this up quickly. You don't want to get chewed out for being late again and become deaf by a double daily dose of rants.

You've wondered before who would win a ranting lecture, your dad or Kankri? It's undeterminable.

"For starters, no, I will use my right of free speech to lecture you for your unwisely decided actions anytime and even after if, my vocals ever lose the ability to produce sounds coherently. Secondly, you do not, have not, and are not a meaningless existence due to you having people who actually care about you or when you remember that we do." The guilt keeps rising higher, "Furthermore what is so important that you have to miss out on a _lovely_ **_conversation_**with your friend after the fact you almost got ran over by a car?" your irritation is rising too, "And you better not be just saying this to get away from my rants like you did last time. I will force you to seventy-two straight hours of repenting by listening to my blissful vocal cords ringing through your auditory ear ducts from recorded job interviews again. And I assure you there will be no distractions this time to save you from the perfectly demonstrated way to handle an interview."

You're on perfect queue when you roll your eyes at him, "No. I am not trying to get out of listening to your shitty ass rants, though it'd be nice of you to shut the fuck up for two seconds." He humps* at you, "I have to go baby sit my little brother, because my parents think I have nothing better to do on my birthday, and are being asshats by choosing to go on a movie date today, because I denied them the privilege of throwing me a fucking birthday party."

You actually had scheduled special plans for today. One was to fix up your old skateboard, because its wheels have been particularly loose lately, and spend the night out with your boyfriend when he got off work. You rejected the idea of them celebrating your birthday this year, because your seventeen and wanted to be alone with your boyfriend. They had already given you the new software for your computer and a new ipod classic, same series as the one you broke a month ago, as birthday gifts, so no point for a birthday party. You wish they had planned their movie date ahead of time or to another day.

"So, I'm sorry. Okay?" You try to sound legitimately sorry for not wanting to talk with him because you're in a rush.

He firmly stares at you for a moment in silence, his eyes study you and revel nothing of his thoughts. Daily city life around you doesn't help to fill the tense silence. You hate this stupid tension.

He finally closes his eyes then sighs with frustration at you. "Fine. Go, but you are going to be giving me intelligible feedback on how my latest recorded interview went" You groan in discontent from just imagining yourself listening to his annoyingly, boring voice on screen. He has locked his eyes onto yours and you can see the raging fire behind them as he continues to speak and accusingly points his index finger at you, "and if I ever find you making out with Cronus on **my couch** _again_, I will make it my _personal _goal to stop such triggers from forever happening in my presence **_everagain_**. Understand?"

His tone is dark, serious, and non-comical as he says this, but it could fool any walking by innocent spectator as normal. Ignorance _is_ bliss.

This is not only meant to be the last warning you receive for you actions, this is an all-out promised threat that he has planned to follow out with against better judgment. You could only respond by doing a slow nod and have saucer sized eyes look at him from his tone.

He seems okay with your response and returns to a more comfortable manner again, "Good. I'll text you later. Happy Birthday, and try not getting ran over by any more cars. I don't need or want any more triggering events in my life." He waits for the street's crosswalk light to switch from stop to walk and looks thoughtfully from side to side of the road as he slips from your sight, opposite of the path you're going. You didn't feel like you needed to say goodbye to him after such an encounter.

You wait for your path to be signaled safe and walk across in the small crowd of people. Once your feet reach the sidewalk, you step out of the group, and lean against a building wall. You are safe from being bumped into by random people walking on the sidewalk and stepping into the street if you do this.

You quickly look at your phone's slide screen. At first you notice the icon alerting you of two new unread messages sent from Cronus, but you ignore them to answer your bigger question.

_How much more time do I have left to get home __**three and half blocks away**__?_

You close the informing alert to view what's behind it. It was largely blocking the view of the screenshot picture tooken of you and Cronus making stupid comical faces at the oddly angled camera phone as your wallpaper, and the glowing numbers telling time in the right upper corner of the screen.

It's 1:27 PM.

Fuck.

Not good.


	2. Act 1: Part 2

⇒Be Kankri Vantas

You are Kankri Vantas wearing a bright red t-shirt, baggy blue grey jeans, white-red-grey styled Converse, a thin strapped backpack, and a sign hanging from your neck.

You are triggered with everything that has occurred around you leading up to this point.

You are not triggered by what the objective intends for, no you think of the subject of matter to be a very good cause to fight for as you were raise to not hate on others for differences, but in the way your adoptive sister, Porrium Maryam, is completing the task is in various essences, WRONG in your opinion.

These five prime examples are quality proof to supporting your thoughts.

For one, to get her point across as to why female gender is under minded and crossed out as inferior and lower, she went to an only males meet club, and started to lecture the men about their treatment and labeling on women for attending and being a member to this gender racist club. It ended up with her getting thrown out by security after she punched, and most definitely, broke the guy's nose for groping her ass as she walked past them during the lecture. You heard the scream of pain from the debauchee, while you were outside waiting in your car for Porrium to go in the store holding the unknown meeting to you, and pick up the food you both ordered from the phone.

Two, she then rallied up enough petition signatures for the case to be brought to court and involved Latula's mom for help. She is known as a Redglare, Divinity of Court Debate, for she has never lost a case as far as you know, and her eyes are said to glow a red flaring spark if she glares at you. It was a brutal occurrence for the judge, and you heard lawyers on the other side of court cried in fear and sorrow as she stepped into the court room with a Cheshire grin on her face.

The club was forcibly shut down by the police as a violation of civil rights, petitioning in court that it was a discrimination against women, causing them to have unequal rights and liberties. Force was allowed due to a technicality of a member being known to associate with drug rings, and the restaurant that hosted the club meetings gave large discounts to the male members, but not to other customers that had no relations to the club.

Mrs. Pyrope is a terrifying woman and you hope to never cross her, whether you're fighting on the same side or not.

Third, you had worked as a waiter for that dining facility up until a week ago. After so many failed job interviews that had denied you, you had almost given up hope, but Cronus kept you hoping for one and you had finally been accepted. That one achievement went down the drain, as soon as your boss found out you were related to the women that had depleted so many of his patrons he was firing at least one worker by the end of the week. You had last heard he was barely making a profit from his business.

That was before he fired and exiled you from ever returning to his restaurant again, even as a customer black listed from his restaurant. You like your history of no gun related injuries with the hospital, so you have been staying away from the restaurant to keep you that way. You're following your former bosses 'advice' to stay injury and bullet free.

Fourth, you now are being forced to wear a sign tied around your neck, loosely hanging on your chest with these words largely scribbled on it in red and green markers, "Fight For your Women's Rights, If You Care How She's Treated by Other Males When She's Not In View!" You tried to object to her doings, but were promptly cut short from Porrium wittedly black mailing you. You are now functioning for her, and currently standing outside on the corner of the restaurant you once worked at, while wearing this sign.

Fifth, the owner has been glaring daggers at you through the glass of his building's windows for the last fifty minutes, as you stood safely on public concrete property in full view of driving cars. You spotted a small 'For Sell' sign in the bottom right corner of the window when you first walked to the spot. You have been gazing anywhere awkwardly from the restaurant's direction with sweat running down your head nervously.

You are triggered, or very uncomfortable about everything around you for very good cause, and you aren't free from this torture till 1:10 P.M.

You glance at your wrist watch.

It's 1:05 P.M. right now.

Five minutes will not make a big difference, and you feel you have spent enough time here, since twelve in the crisping heat of midday. You prop up the sign against the wall for display, and abscond quickly from your post. You glance back as you retreat. The owner's eyes follow after you with the same intensified hateful stare as you leave.

You turn around the left corner of the building and walk over to the usual ice cream stand. When you had a part time job, you would buy your six year old cousin a cherry chocolate flavored ice cream bar every day you worked. He was happy in his grouchy, unhappy self-kind of way when he got the treat. You felt you did a good deed to change his daily attitude, but it didn't last very long as you started talking to him.

You are buying one now as a token of exchange and bribery for him to come to the park party at four. He will most likely come, but will not be happy or act accordingly when he finds out, Nepeta Leijon, Meulin's younger sister is present too. He gets flustered around her and Latula's younger sister. The attention from Nepeta makes him build up self-esteem, but is popped easily by the malicious child, Terezi Pyrope.

She's just like her mother, and she intimidates you. Even if, she is blind and the same age as your cousin, she daunts you.

You pay for the ice cream, place it in your bag, and start walking down the street's slanted hill to the cross walk at the bottom. You stop to look sideways through a video game shop's window. Your friend Mituna Captor works at the store here and gets off on Thursdays sometime around one o'clock. You need to talk to Mituna about two things. Recorded interviews and the meeting at four, which is actually a surprise party.

You started doing interview recordings again after you got fired and need someone to view over them for another opinion. Mituna thought's might not be the best outlook to take from, but he is the only other person you know that video recorded his interview, turned it, and got the job. He is also the only person you can really force into watching your interviews and retain reliable info from. At least half of the time you can, when he doesn't fall asleep or get distracted by other things.

The 'meeting' or, better known by seven other people in your group of social friends, the surprise party, is being held at the usual meeting place to make things inconspicuous and be classy. Being inconspicuous is an accurate objective of why you chose the park, but not the whole truth.

The rest of the truth is your group wouldn't put forth the money for a real birthday bash, so you agreed to set it there. Several other reasons is one it was free, everyone knows where it's at, it has tables to sit at with trees shading it, a fountain with fish, and various sizes of stairs located around it. Latula and Mituna mostly hang there for the stairs and tables.

The table's benches and assisting hand poles lined down the middle of the concrete stairs are not used for proper purpose as your skate boarding friends grind on and off of the hand rails and metal seats. They are actually not supposed to do skating in the area as stated on signs around the park and constant advisement from you falls on deaf ears, and you don't mean Meulin either. Latula reassured you they would be fine, as they are experts when skate boarding.

The cops were called twice, but your friends got away Scott free each time by hiding their skateboards on the inside ledge of the fountain. No skate boards, no skating could be done.

Your friends laughed and laughed like idiots after the cops had left, until you got onto them about how they could have gotten in serious shit. You were briefly ignored by seven of your friends, but were acknowledged by Latula and Cronus. You flush over Latula because she actually gives you the time of day to hear you out and you think you've been getting signals back, but her eyes look like they tend to drift off somewhere else…

You think you're just imagining it, while your nerves play tricks on you.

You have recently noticed your romantic auditor, Cronus, has stopped complaining about Mituna not wearing a helmet when doing Ollies and 50-50's on the stairs. It was messing with their relationship quite badly from what you had last heard from Cronus, but you guess he's chosen to be silent about the concern. He believes in finding true love fairly serious, and has told you he doesn't want to mess this up over something retarded like a helmet. You know he thinks he has found the one, and has yet to tell that one how he truly feels. Hopefully, he'll do it soon. You want him happy.

You're happy for them as long as they keep their lovey-dovey couple crap off your couch. You don't need the triggering images of Cronus and Mituna flashing into mind anytime you waltz into the living room and take a glimpse of your favorite piece of furniture. Also you get a hint of what you think is resentment for them having what you don't.

A relationship. An intimate companionship. Someone you could trust yourself with, love, and be loved for who you are.

You carefully scan the small store's inside area through the large window, ignoring the attention grabbing glow in the corner of your peripheral vision. After skimming over various video game racks and seeing no fluffy dirty blonde hair above the shelves or behind the purchasing counter, you assume Mituna's not there. You can always message him about coming to the party and your interviews. You need to talk about one important matter in person though…

You move to look at what was bugging you in your outer blurred view. You look at the visible red and blue glowing numbers of the digital clock in the store's window, next to the neon shine of the Opening and Closing hour's sign of the store. The store has odd opening hours as 6:12 AM you're allowed in and closes at 10:25 PM. The cue ball designed digital clock reads 4: 13 with the light missing for PM or AM. This puts a mysterious chill down your spine. You quickly turn away from the store, and you start uncertainly jogging down the slanted hill's sidewalk to the cross walk at the end of the street.

You notice cars are zipping down the roads at rather faster speeds then allowed as your slow paced jog passes the half-way point down the street's sidewalk. From the angle and position you're at you can easily spot the messy, dirty-blonde hair of your friend walking ahead of you to the crosswalk. You must have just missed him from his work place. He's still dressed in the store's uniform clothes.

He's looking directly looking down at something as the crossing light timer counts down from seven seconds to switch from green to red lighting. You jog a little fast to catch up to him, but you realize he hasn't stopped getting closer to the end of the curb and the paved road as you get to the end of the small crowd.

He isn't stopping! What in all good graces?! "OH MY JEGUS! PAY ATTENTION!" The crossing light has three second left on the timing signaler and you are push a people out of your way as your jog becomes a brash, quickened sprint.

"MITUNA!" Yelling isn't helping as the idiot doesn't even acknowledge you! You grab Mituna by the collar of his shirt with both hands and jerk him back him with all your strength as a minivan speeds right in front of his face! For Christ sakes!

You don't know why your friends with this guy! Wait, yes you do, because he's friends with all of your friends, he's a fool who forgets important factors, and you feel he needs a friend when he isn't being a backend! You are deathly pissed off at him for making you pull his sorry rump out of the street, for not paying attention, not listening to you, for making you worry and panic over him! He is a complete, total, and authorized labeled ASS! WHY AND WHAT WAS HE DOING!?

He's staring after the car that almost ran him over on the ground dumb founded, and this doesn't add well to your emotions. You pull him up to standing on his feet in front and facing you. The perfect position to have his whole attention, when you start yelling at him, and knock him out of this ridiculous comatose state of shock!

"WHAT IN ALL THE BLAZING STARS OF DAVID WAS SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU WERE ABOUT TO WALK INTO THE STREET FULL OF ZOOMING CARS THAT COULD, I DON'T KNOW, KILL YOU! OH MY GOG… HOW COULD YOU BE SO IGNORANT?! WELL, NEXT TIME YOU TRY TO KILL YOURSELF, I AM NOT GOING TO SAVE YOUR SKINNY RUM-"

He cuts you off your patronized trigger filled lecture of emotional distress, "Okay, okay Kankri." Agitation is clear in his tone and you feel like you want to smack his hands from trying to do a calming gesture to you. You have a right to be upset right now, "I know I am an unintelligible piece of shit that should know better than to space off while walking around. Thank you for saving my meaningless existence, but could you save me from the rant you got coming for me too? I got important places to be at", he pauses and looks at his phone trying to ignore the famous Vantas scowl directed at him, "in like the next twenty minutes."

No he did not just pull the pity time limited card on you. He can go sit on a rail road spike for all you care right now, because this is not going to work as an excuse for the state he has placed you in, and you are going to call him out on it.

"For starters, no, I will use my right of free speech to lecture you for your unwisely decided actions anytime and even after if, my vocals ever lose the ability to produce sounds coherently." Pardon yourself for using such trigger filled events as a reference, but you are pissed at him. "Secondly, you do not, have not, and are not a meaningless existence due to you having people who actually care about you or when you remember that we do." The anger keeps rising higher, and so does your sarcasm towards him, "Furthermore, what is _so_ important that you have to miss out on a _lovely __**conversation**_ with your friend after the fact you almost got ran over by a car? And you better not be just saying this to get away from my rants like you did last time. I will force you to seventy-two straight hours of repenting by listening to my blissful vocal cords ringing through your auditory ear ducts from recorded job interviews again. And I assure you there will be no distractions this time to save you from the perfectly demonstrated way to handle an interview."

He rolls his eyes at you so hard you would think they could come flying out of their sockets. "No. I am not trying to get out of listening to your shitty ass rants, though it'd be nice of you to shut the fuck up for two seconds." You hump your disagreement with this statement and roll your eyes at the sky as you face your head away from looking at him, "I have to go baby sit my little brother, because my parents think I have nothing better to do on my birthday, and are being asshats by choosing to go on a movie date today, because I denied them the privilege of throwing me a fucking birthday party." Oh, you did not know this piece of information.

"So, I'm sorry. Okay?" You know he's attempting to sound truly sorry, so you are going to give this brief moment of thought and process as you look at him. If only to let him feel awkward and tense from just pausing to react to him.

You would be pretty unpleased stuck at home with Porrium and her shenanigans. Also he refused to let his parents throw him a birthday party… Would he be angry or disappointed if he knew what your friends had set one up for him? You don't know if you would be joyful or unhappy about his reaction as payback for this distress.

You close your eyes, give a frustrated sigh, and decide to be brief.

"Fine. Go, but you are going to be giving me intelligible feedback on how my latest recorded interview went," he groans loudly in dissatisfaction.

His parents are probably waiting for him already, and you don't want to be made into a cause for him being in trouble with them. Plus he almost got ran over by a car.

That is what you thought, before you remembered your important discussion that needed to held with him ASAP.

You immediately lock eyes with him and he visible shrinks back from you as he can see the raging fire behind your eyes as you continue to speak and warningly hold out your right index finger at him, "and if I ever find you making out with Cronus on **my couch** _again_, I will make it my _personal _goal to stop such triggers from forever happening in my presence **_everagain_**. Understand?" Your tone is dark, grim, and solemn as you speak this last threatening warning.

The last time they were on your couch, their skivvies were only left on as you came walking into the house. You almost dropped the bag of groceries in your arms as they looked up from the couch to see who was there. Mituna smirked at you, flipped Cronus under him, and continued on again like you never entered in the first place. You could hear Cronus whispering short protests, but quickly silenced as a moan escaped from him. You stood with your mouth wide open, stiff arms barely keeping a grip on the bags full of produce, and a blush that was bright candy red coloring your whole face, neck, and ears, until Mituna spoke next.

You heard a curt laugh or snicker from Mituna and then, "Hey, Kankri. I would appreciate it, if you didn't just stand there." Smug pertness leaked out of his every word. You were one word as you finally dropped the groceries on the carpet floor.

Triggered.

After you had successfully flipped out, separated, and clothed the two horny males, known as your friends, you proceeded to lecturing separately, and then both of them at the same time. It was an hour long speech to each one and thirty minutes of overall review. Cronus lashed subsided apologizes to you, while Mituna was smug and irritated that you stopped him.

Mituna could only respond by doing a slow nod, and have plate sized eyes look at you and you are fine with the reaction. It means he actually listened to you for once. "Good. I'll text you later. Happy birthday, and try not getting ran over by any more cars. I don't need or want any more triggering events in my life." You make it a point to wait for the street's crosswalk light to switch from stop to walk and look thoughtfully from side to side of the road as you slip away from Mituna and onto the street. You make it to the crosswalk with six seconds to spare and continue on down straight to your house.

A short ring tone for your messages box interrupts your progress home.

⇒Be Cronus Ampora

_2:03 PM Thursady, June 11_

You have just punched out your work card for the day and leaving the main office building from the front. Your work place is a 12,000 square foot piece of property supporting the work shop, main office, and the employee's parking area behind the two buildings. You work as a "trainee" mechanic at the pretty decent sized abode, being paid eight bucks an hour to support yourself in your one room apartment.

You're going to walk home like usual and leave 'Wild Charlie' here at the shop. You don't want to pointlessly drive back and forth on your motorcycle between home and work, when you live close enough away to walk each day. You also don't trust your fellow residential members at your apartment complex to not to take a joyride, or do worse off to it, while you aren't attending it.

Your Father, or as you better like to refer to him by his first name, Dualscar pays rent and your education expenses, while you pay for all your other necessities. This was the agreement you both made, but if you could live without his help you would do it. Regrettably, two years ago you were barely fourteen when you moved out and grimly knew you would not be able to support all your costly fees.

After your last bloody conflict, he bitterly guaranteed you he would pay for your rent and school, when you left the house and 'entitlements' of being an 'Ampora' behind you. It was probably the first and the last kind thing he had done for you in a long time or most beneficial choice for him to make at this point.

This was also the cruelest thing you had ever done to your little brother.

Without you as entitled heir for Dualscar, the cruel and rendering hellish social view and dictating orders of your every move fell onto the next in line. Your brother was only three when the curse was placed onto him, and it immediately went into effect after your deal was made. You made a contract with the devil by sacrificing an innocent lamb…

You feel you're a horrible brother. The gleam of admiration and appraisal from your younger brother you gain, you don't deserve. The looks he gives you when he cries about why he can't do what other children do outside, causes you to feel worse, because he doesn't understand why he has to deal with these differences in his life. He doesn't know it is because you weren't able to fit the part and stand in line to be unhappy with everything around you, that you shoved the task off onto him.

You are lying to him by not telling him the truth of his restrictions, and you never will. You are going to continue to lie to keep him happy as long as you can. Before his unfaltering view of you changes with hell taking over his whole world, and you become a figure that terrorizes him in that mind corrupting hell.

You are standing in front of your apartment complex's rusted broken gates with a sign hanging on top with holes grazing through reads "Mirthful chapiteau". You can feel the grimace bitter look on your face as you push the gates open and step into the complex's untrimmed weeding grass. Your Father may have agreed to pay for rent and your education tuition, but was never happy about it. You never discussed where you were going to live, or standards for the apartment. Dualscar purposely chose this place as punishment, and probably thought you would come back.

You have disproved and angered him for the last two years as a resident of "Mirthful Chapiteau". It sucks major balls here, but dishing out how wrong your father straight to him, like a slap to his face, is greatly worth the effort.

You avoid shallower parts that were likely to have broken glass, rocks, metal, or any illegal hidden used drug residues in the grass and make your way to the visibly safer concrete side walk, surfacing from under the wild vegetation. You follow the battling path of concrete and vegetation to the creaky stairs leading up to the second story of the apartment building.

You walk up the stairs cautiously avoiding the well-known tender spots in fear of your foot getting stuck in the cracking wood. Success! You get up the stairs with no problems, and walk across the hallway to your apartment door in the middle of the building. You take out your key and unlock the door. Home sweet home…

⇒Be the one expecting to be deaf by the end of this shit-hitting-the-fan-day.

Only having eight minutes left to run a distance of 603.504 meters, 1980 feet, or about six and half football fields is an impossible task for the condition your body is in. You also were dressed in stuffy work clothes for your job at the local video game store and Khakis are not exactly the best pants to wear when running. You didn't have your skateboard to ride creating more momentum, and you had to run uphill.

All variable reasons for you not getting home in time, but your parents didn't have the same view as you.

You didn't even get to speak any of your reasons, before your Dad started lecturing you with, "I do not want to hear any excuses come from you right now!" You thought you were lucky. They were scampering right out the door when you got to the house at 1:40 PM, but your Dad was not going to let you think that for more than a mere second.

He lectured you from first sight at the door until both your parents were situated in their 2005 Edition Ford Truck and ready to go with the window rolled down at 1:46 PM. He stops lecturing you from the passenger seat, to give you the rehearsed set of instructions and restrictions you hear each time before they leave.

It sounds like this to you.

"First, nobody is blahblahblah blahblah you and Sollux. Don't let you or Sollux blah blah blah blah blah blah. If blahblahblah blah blah blahblah. If we blah blahblahblah blah blahblah blah you answer the phone, not Sollux. You both have dinner already made for you guys, it's stored in the refrigerator." You haven't had lunch and you skipped out on breakfast to sleep in this morning, before being dropped off to work. You're immediately eatingwhen you get inside, "We might blahblah at ten or later. Don't stay up too late blahblahblah blahblah Sollux blah bed blah eight thirty."

You aren't focusing really on what your Dad is saying and neither does your Father look like he's paying much mind to it either. Your Father looks like he is waiting, patiently listening to the radio's country station in the driver's seat, but you can tell he's growing steadily irritated from the arrhythmic drumming of his fingers on the steering wheel. He has the habit to tap things, when he's irritated.

"Blahblah Mituna. **Mituna**." He grabs your attention when you hear the changes of tune in his voice become more peeved with pronouncing your name. "Did you hear a word I just said, and understood it?"

You and your father both sigh heavily, and your tone is reeking with attitude and agitation from a migraine leeching at your head, "Yes, I was listening. Lock the door, don't invite people over, don't go outside, food in the refrigerator, Sollux bed by eight thirty, and I shouldn't stay up too late. Am I missing anything?"

Your Dad surprisingly puts an arm out of the window and quickly pulls you into a one armed hug, while he affectionately ruffles the fluffy hair on your head in his free hand. Your Dad's tone is not harsh, but firm, soft and gentle like his gestures, "Yes, I also said I am sorry for making you watch your little brother, while me and your father finally get to spend some alone time together between our busy work schedules, happy birthday son, and we love you."

Congratulations you feel like the top asshat of all assholes' shittiest prized asshats they have ever owned, but you're going to redeem yourself if only by a little bit. If not you get a gold star that says, "You Tried".

You guiltily loop your free arm around your dad and complete the odd shaped circle formed as you hug him back. Your voice is whispery with guilt, "Thanks Dad. Have a nice time on your date, and… I love you guys too."

You have been making people feel like shit today by what you've said or haven't. You **_really_** need to stop that.

You share the exchange of parental and offspring affection for a bit longer, until you hear a snide, "Ahe-Ahem…" from the opposite side of the car. You both turn to look at your Father's smirking face as he points to the time on the stereo, "Sorry to rush the moment, but we had prior engagements." It's 1:52 PM.

"Oh! We're going to be missing the beginning of the movie if we stay and don't speed up our pace."

Dad turns back to you with a gentle smile and he roughly ruffles your hair one more time. "It's okay Mituna… Just, please _fully_ listen to me next time. Okay?" You give a curt nod to him and he stops messing up your hair, satisfied with your answer.

You hear the rumbling of the car engine and you back away from the truck onto your green lawn. You wave bye to them at a safe distance away from the truck's side mirrors as you have had enough close calls with driving vehicles today. You watch your Dad wave bye to you as your father backs out of the driveway, drives up the street and out of sight.

You start walking up to the front door, thinking fondly about how you met the man you call "Dad". Your step dad has been 'Dad' for a little more than six years now to you, though legally he has only been your Step Dad for two years, due to the restricting laws on marriage. They held a ceremony and got married on June 3rd, 2004 in Massachusetts.

Dad and you had to overcome the walls you placed between the both of you, when your Father first told you about their relationship at the young confusing age of ten years old. You were uncomfortable and rejected the idea of having someone trying to replace your mother, but he eventually convinced you he wasn't trying to replace her. He was just trying to be someone there to support you and be your friend, if you felt you needed one or thought he was worthy of your friendship. It took time and effort from both of you, to build an understanding and a balance that fitted your relationship.

He gave you space and support when you called for it, and let you do things your own way. He is a good friend and you hold respect for him, but when he goes into parenting rant mode you tend to zone and dull out the boring lectures he gives you. You love your Dad and Father, and you became comfortable with their relationship around the age of twelve.

You're glad that your Father was able to find someone to make him happy again. After your Mother's and Father's chaotic divorce, he was very sad and angry all the time. You don't enjoy remembering the times he let his temper get the better of him… especially when it was directed at you with liquor in his system.

You reach for the front door's handle, and questionably try to open it, seeing if your younger brother has locked it. It opens quite easily without a sound, and you shudder as the cold conditioning air of inside sweeps across your skin tantalizing you to step in quicker, away from the summer heat. You skip the formalities of wiping your feet off on the outside mat, step inside, lock the door, and let the cold air unwind your hot tired muscles from today's work.

You lazily slip off your tied red, black, and blue Skechers and place them on the shoe rack leaning against the right wall beside of the front door. You proceed to slipping off your thick, sweaty, gross work shirt off onto the ground as you walk past the staircase with videogame sounds echoing down them from your right, and turn left down a hallway. You walk a little bit further, fondly regarding family pictures on the walls, until you see the entrance to your destination; next you turn left, and are placed in front of the Kitchen.

Your stomach growls hungrily in anticipation.

You enter and go straight for the fridge as your belly's rumbles continue on. You really need to eat, so you open up the fridge and scan over the products in the icebox. You spot the gold-ish, yellow brazened coloring of food in a clear container.

You know what this is.

It's your favorite dish. Homemade Chinese Honey Chicken.

The sweet-spicy, savory platter sitting on the top shelf all alone without a friend and it is calling to you.

Homemade Chinese Honey Chicken sits stuffed in a 6x6 clear container on the shelf beside another 6x6 container of boiled rice. (Who needs or wants rice.) You really need to tell your Dad thank you. 'Maybe this day won't be so shitty after all.' you thought as started to pull the two containers out.

This was the thought you had, until you see the yellow sticky note on the top of the container lid labeled in a bright red marker. You frown as you read it. This is your Dad's red marker pen writing.

'Mituna share **HALF**of the Chinese Honey Chicken and rice with Sollux. **HALF**'

Fuck… You don't want to share this… but you don't want to have to make or search for more food for him either… Quite a dilemma you have there. Maybe eating some of this delicious food will help you think.

You proceed to removing the lid off the container and pull out a plate from one of the nearby cabinets. You are too eager to devour, yes devour, the food that you use your fingers to pluck out the larger pieces of sweet and spicy chicken from the container onto your plate, you lick your fingers after you drop off each succulent piece of cargo.

You worry about attaining some silverware, after getting a little more than half of the sustenance on your plate, along with a little less than half the rice to make up for the chicken, and place the tray into the microwave. You set the cooking time to a minute, click start, hear the whirring of the microwave, and go to the cabinet beside it to pull out the soy sauce from it.

Now the worst part of this process. Enduring the smell of the teasingly, alluring food only a foot away from being in your hands to eat. The wafting smell of Homemade Chinese Honey Chicken hits your nose after ten seconds in the microwave. The sweet tang and spice rings through the kitchen and your nose. It makes your mouth water from the scent as your brain receives and sends messages to the nerves of your palate, the memories of the warm silky honeyed flavored taste flourishing on your taste buds.

You have to clench your hands and look away from your heating food in fear of early deployment from the electronic heating device. This would result in cold unwanted, uneaten rice and half-way appeasing, cold chicken to eat. When you have this meal, you want it hot or it doesn't give you the same satisfying affect from it.

You be patient.

The long awaited and annoying buzz of the microwave is cut more than halfway short of the alarm as the door to the heating electronic is flung open and swings back from the force. You dodge the countering door with your plate in your hands, out of the electronic's closed grasp as the door closes back up from the force. You pick up the soy sauce in your other hand and you're about to place it on your rice when you see a figure in the corner of peripheral vision move.

You turn around to face the figure. Sollux has finally come downstairs.

…And he is staring at your plate with the same look you gave the food as it turned and turned heating in the microwave. This is his favorite food too. He puts out his hands like he's expecting something from you and puts on the best pouty face you have ever seen him display.

No.

No, you are not going to let that happen.

Sollux can go make his own food you left in the containers, and go through the same pain as you. Unlike your boyfriend, you have enough spine to tell your brother no, and say 'shove it' to his face when he's being a prick. You see it as teaching him a valuable lesson in life.

Valuable lesson number one '_Shit ain't going to always go the way you want it __forever_, so _man up_, and **_don't_**_ bitch_ _about it_.' A good lesson his mind is quickly grasping onto as you ignore him, move into the parlor room, and sit down with your food in your lap.

Peace and qui- wait, he's followed you into the parlor room. You look up at him and raise an eyebrow as he stands in front of you looking grumpily at you. He's almost up to the height of your eyes as you sit down with your back slouched the couch.

His voice comes out grumpy and agitated, "I need help. I can't reach the microwave."

Oh.

Oh, yeah.

You forgot he's seven years old. Not tall enough to reach or make his food yet, like you can where the microwave is comfortably inserted to sit between cabinets above the stove for teens and adults. No wonder why he was expecting you to hand over your plate to him. Don't you seem like an oblivious douche right now? It's okay, you can fix this. "Hold on a little longer little bro. I will fix a plate of food up right now."

You place down your plate on the small table beside your seat, a little disappointed to leave your food, and disappear back into the kitchen. You empty the rest of the food onto another plate from the upper storage cabinet. You took quite a bit more than half of the chicken then you would like to admit to, but Sollux is ten years younger than you. He doesn't and probably can't eat all his half of the food in the container, and you would never want great food like this to go to waste.

You repeat the horrendous process again enthused for the microwave to end so you could give Sollux his food and finally eat you own. You know your becoming a little annoyed as your migraine starts picking up again. You need to take some aspirin from the cabinet to chill your head from hurting or you're going to be the big ass hat to anyone around. You don't need to be adding oil to the fire, when you are trying to look less of a fool.

You reach into the medicine cabinet on the left side of the microwave as the timer on it hits zero and buzzes. You continue your search for the aspirin in the two shelved cabinet, and find the small bottle of medical relief hiding in the corner, behind your Father's Klonopin medication. You briefly wonder who put it so far back, but dismiss the thought as the delayed repeated short beeps of the microwave is hurting your head, and reminds you of the food in it.

You pull out Sollux's food and place it on the counter top to silence the annoying noise and open up the Aleve pill bottle. You grab an empty cup, head towards the sink, turn on the water for it to come out of the nozzle and fill up your cup. Your brother is just in the other room, and you glance up to see him in the parlor room, through the arching opening window in the wall.

He currently is holding a plate in his hands and sucking on a fork in his mouth.

That is your blue and red color clasher plate you left in the room with Sollux unsupervised.

The plate has all your rice on it. No Homemade Chinese Honey Chicken is anywhere to be seen.

You are going to murder your brother.

If, your migraine does not make your head explode before the time you reach him.

⇒Be Kankri Vantas

"CAT, IMA KITTY CAT AND I DANCE DANCE DANCE, AND I DANCE DANCE DANCE

CAT, IMA KITTY CAT AND I DANCE DANCE DANCE, AND I DANCE DANCE DANCE

CAT, IMA KITTY CAT AND I DANCE DANCE DANCE, AND I DANCE DANCE DANCE

CAT, IMA KITTY CAT AND I DANCE DANCE DANCE, AND I DANCE DANCE DANCE"

Your friends each have specific ring tones for calling and messaging you. This song is ridiculously addictive and you blame Cronus for convincing you into doing this.

You walk over to a random foreclosed two story house, sit down on the front house steps to the entrance door. You pull out your phone, open it up, set it to vibrate, then open the one unread message in your message box.

From: "Performing Kitty Cat"

Subject: (=^_^=)"' : H33LP IS M33OW-ANDATORY!

Date: June 11, 2006 01:23:32

To: Kankri Vantas

(=^•_•^=): KANKRI, TH33R33 IS A PURR-33DICAM33NT TO OUR PURR-LANS!

(=^X0X^=): FISHY FLIRTER M33OWS THAT TUNA IS BUSY TODAY!

~(^3^)~: HE PURR-OMISED HE WOULD MESSAGE TUNA, BUT I DOUBT THAT WILL CHANGE TUNA'S MIND!

(^•ω •^): I WANT YOU TO DEAL WITH MAKING SURE HE COMES WITH AMPURRA!

(=* ω *=): MY MATCHMAKER SENSES HAVE BEEN PURR-ICKLING AS OF LAT33 FOR THIS PAIR AND I PURR-SICISLY PURR-LAN TO S3333 WHAT TAK33S PURR-LACE33!

Message Sent

From: "Crabby-kri"

Subject: Pre Warning- May contain triggers depending, if you are unsettled by near death situations, emotional stress, threats, relationship altering, and rejection to requests/demands.

Date: June 11, 2006 01:26:00

To: Meulin Leijon

For the record, I have no intention of directly involving myself with a situation that could possibly result in triggering events being forced and placed onto me by engaging in disputable areas of others relationships. It is in my best and honest of opinion to not directly involve myself in the results and events, which take place being a significant occurrence due to my influence on others. If you wish to pursue in such standards it is not in my place to be the judge of you as a creepy friend for shipping her friends with an absurd cat fixation, but to advise you to not meddle with the relationships of couples that are perfectly happy to sate your urges and desires of mix matching everyone. Also if, such incidences do occur I will inform you ahead of time and give supportive details as to why I was forced to make such brash actions in their relationship and correct the injustices placed. These wrong doings are fixed due to my capability and responsibility because no one else in our chain of friends would set it right, if they could. Due to the lazing efforts our friends have displayed in the fair amount of time to handle the engrossing situations faced in front of us repeatedly, I was forced to take action.

Message Sent

From: "Performing Kitty Cat"

Subject: (=^•_•^=): CAN I PURR-LEASE HAVE AT LEAST ONE AP-PURR-EAL FILLED?

Date: June 11, 2006 01:30:45

To: Kankri Vantas

(=^•_•^=): KANKRI, AS MUCH AS I LUV DETAILED PURR-ARTS FOR MY SHIPPING, COULD YOU PURROUNCE STRAIGHT TO THE POINT?

(= ω =): I KINDA SKIMMED OVER YOUR PURR-EVIOUS MESSAGE, BECAUSE IT WAS REALLY LONG~~

(=^_^=)"': AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY ALL THOSE TRIGGERS!

Message Sent

From: "Crabby-kri"

Subject: You didn't read it at all did you. Fine. (Triggers are as previously stated, near death situations, emotional stress, threats, relationship altering, and rejection to requests.)

Date: June 11, 2006 01:34:43

To: Meulin Leijon

Let me make this simple by paraphrasing. A new skill I have been practicing on, since I learned about it from my Literature teacher before the summer began.

I do not want to be sticking my two cents into their relationship, unless I am forced to correct an inequality that is or may occur, affecting me directly or indirectly.

A recent example would be the conversation I had with Mituna after he had nearly got ran over by a car. I shouted at him angrily for his unwise actions, due to an outburst of my own disgruntled feelings after pulling him to safety. I got sass from him in return, and reimbursed him with his own treatment to me.

He is stuck at home with sentry duty over his brother, while his parents are out of the house today. He seemed increasingly annoyed due to the fact he thought his parents were punishing him for not throwing a birthday party. I have my concerns about whether our surprise ploy would be the right move, based off of his earlier response.

Lastly I directed him to stop flaunting out his relationship for everyone's best interests, or I would fix his problem permanently. He agreed to solve the unruly behavior, respond on a few new interview tapes I made, and then we parted ways about ten minutes ago.

Grounded by the circumstances I've been placed under from him today, you can handle Mituna.

Message Sent

From: "Performing Kitty Cat"

Subject: (^=_=^): I PURR-SUME THAT IS A NO?

Date: June 11, 2006 01:29:45

To: Kankri Vantas

(=^•_•^=): KANKRI?

(=^•_•^=)"': DO YOU POSSIBLY NOT KNOW HOW TO WRITE SHORT SENTENCES?!

Message Sent

She did not put in a cat pun for 'possibly'. She is literally asking you this question…

From: "Crabby-kri"

Subject: Triggered.

Date: June 11, 2006 01:34:43

To: Meulin Leijon

Mituna almost becomes road kill today.

He is saved by me.

Mituna and I fought today.

I get him to apologize. He's babysitting his little brother. Home stuck.

Warned him to stop PDA or I will end it for good.

Separated ways, and then bothered by you.

Message Sent

Of course you do.

She's rude for thinking you couldn't. It's just that you don't want to.

You enjoy expanding on your thoughts, even if other people don't enjoy listening to them.

From: "Performing Kitty Cat"

Subject: (=^•ω•^=): YOUR TEACHER IS A PURRODIGY FUR SOLVING THE 'CRABBY KRI CHATTER BOX'!

Date: June 11, 2006 01:39:53

To: Kankri Vantas

(=^•O•^=): I ACTUALLY UNDERSTOOD THOSE PHRASES KANKRI! YOUR T33ACH33R IS SU-PURR!

(=^•ω•^=): ALSO, SORRY ABOUT THE MESSY OCCURRENCE WITH MITUNA!

\ (=^-ω-^=)/: YOU STILL NEED TO MEOW MAIL HIM INTO COMING TO THE PARTY, THOUGH!

Message Sent

No. You are not going to text him, and you are taking back your agreement to her appeal.

You start typing up a long well thought out, and explanatory text, when you are interrupted half way by another text from Meulin. You open up the text to see what else you could rant to her about, but stop dead in your typing tracks at the sight of "A LITTLE VIRGIN MARY TOLD ME".

From: "Performing Kitty Cat"

Subject: (=^•ω•^=): I FOUND A S33CR33T R33C33NTLY!

Date: June 11,, 2006 01:41:54

To: Kankri Vantas

(=^oωo^=): A LITTL33 VIRGIN MARY TOLD M33, A PAW-SOTIV33LY PURR-F33CT S33CR33T FUR MY SHIPPING WALL!

(=*ω*=): PURR-HAPS, YOU WANT TO KNOW IT? FUNNY THINGS AR33 PURR-S33NTED WH33N ONE IS A BIT TIPSY!

(=^OωO^=): THAT IS, IF YOU DON'T R33-M33OW-B33R YOUR OWN PURR-SONAL WORDS! KAN-KITTY!

Message Sent

'OH, DEAR GOD….' you exasperate in disbelief. She only uses that ridiculous name, "Kankitty", for you when she's currently pairing you with someone. Extreme hard core shipping feels for you and that someone together.

She won't let go of the possibility, till she gets her facts straight out of her targets mouth.

If hope does make things you wish for really happen, please work right now. You are extremely hoping that she's faking this, but you highly doubt it from the information she's providing of that night with Porrium. That will forever be the last time you allow Porrium to talk you into a secret drink from forcing a bottle down your throat, and curiosity playing a part to it too. You also will never admit to anyone you ever were crying and balling out all your insecurities to Porrium in a state of drunken stupor.

Porrium did not keep her promise to never speak of that night, but neither did you keep your end of the bargain. Though, she couldn't know you didn't stand at the corner, outside your ex-work place with that rebellious sign on, until 1:10. That would be ridiculous, so she must have broken her promise before you.

Your action of leaving early is now justifiable. You shouldn't be held to the deal, if she didn't follow out either.

You are going to deny any knowledge pertaining to that night.

From: "Crabby-kri"

Subject: Triggered by last subject, also what? (Triggers are Falsified Information Being Spread, Alcohol Reference, Personal Emotions, and Relationship Status)

Date: June 11, 2006 01:47:23

To: Meulin Leijon

I have no idea what you are referring to, and if you are trying to play a trick on me, I insist you to cease this unwarranted feat right now. It is a pointless foil. Whatever you meditated Porrium was telling you, is pseudo in all instances, and I have no knowledge to your topic. I do not drink, nor will I ever consume alcoholic beverages, or have been in the condition of tipsiness caused by outside legal or illegal products recently. That would be an unjustifiable action, and you know quite well, how I set myself for higher standards. Due to that context, you were lied to or misguided. If you were told that I held a crush on someone, then it is true that I do hold affection for someone in our group. You may or may not know of the mixed feelings I share with and towards Latula Pyrope, for our current state as friends has not risen above that. Saddening as that is to me, I will not force myself or her into a relationship she is doubtful of, because it will not succeed. I will be messaging Porrium about this nonsense she has given you about me drinking, and I still refuse to message Mituna.

From: "Performing Kitty Cat"

Subject: (=^**-**ω**-**^=): MY MATCHMAKER SENSES SAY 'KANKITTY IS IN DENIAL'…

Date: June 11, 2006 01:53:54

To: Kankri Vantas

(=^•ω•^=): YES. I AM VERY WELL IN-FUR-MED OF YOUR KITTY CUTE CRUSH FUR PURR-TULA.

(=^ω^=): YOUR FAC33 FLASH33S A DIF-FUR-33NT COLOR 33ACH TIM33 YOU M33OWS WITH H33R! IT GIVES M33 S33V33R33 F33LS 33V33R TIM33 I S3333 IT! TH33 F333333333333LS !

(^=ω=^): IT'S AN INSULT YOU WOULD THINK I DON'T KNOW ABOUT ALL TH33 F3333LINGS THROWN INTO TH33 OP33N!

(=^*ω*^=): THOUGH, ITS THE ONES THAT ARE HIDDEN, AND ARE PURR-ACTICALLY IM-PAW-SSIBLE TO CATCH, THAT STIK33S MY F33LIN33 HUNTER INSTINTS MOST! I'LL MAKE THIS PAINLESS, IF YOU PURR-VIDE ME THE IN-FUR-MATION REQUESTED.

(=^•ω•^=): I WILL ALSO PURR-OUNCE OFF YOUR BACK ABOUT MESSAGING MITUNA!

You have to make a choice. Reply no, deal with Mituna, Porrium, and a nosy "fur-iend" watching over you for a slip up towards anyone, or say yes and only have to deal with Porrium, and a sympathetic shipping friend. You would be admitting to something you're not entirely sure about either, if you said yes…

What will you choose?


	3. Act 1: Part 3

⇒Be the successful ninja-catgirl with newly powerful matchmaker information acquired

You are Meulin Leijon and currently not hopping around like an excited fan girl whose shipping instincts were proven right. You, the girl dressed in black running shoes, olive green leggings, a flexible dark gray skort, and a thin olive green vest designed shirt is sitting, and giggling affectionately, secretly ogling the situation your Best Friend Forever, Horuss Zahhak, is trapped in across the garage a little ways away from the currently opened car being fixed in front of you.

You're in STALLIONS, the auto shop and owned work place of Horuss' Father, and have currently seated yourself to an empty space for a PURR-fect view from your BFF's work bench for the spectacle. He's supposed to be walking about the building and performing his 'employee duties', but right now you're pretty sure that doesn't entail drenching his clothes in sweat. The cause is not the increasingly hot temperature of the garage, but from staring at his shirtless boyfriend's rockin' tanned bod, covered in sweat, a little bit of a grease, and flexing muscles as he works on the car maybe a half yard from you.

He gazes until Rufioh catches him, and passes him a small smile back. He scurries back off to working a blush all the way to the main office entrance door as he escapes, but he will come back in the next half hour or so if his boyfriend is still there. Rufioh will probably still be there gladly waiting for his boyfriend's return and cute reaction. You're so proud you hooked the two together.

Rufioh Nitram is a stud full of hot aspects and you are filled chockfull of pride every time you catch a glimpse of their cute shenanigan coupling stunts. You were the one that read between the lines of their interactions, and hooked your best friend up with him. He and Horuss were sad and lonely, especially after the whole break up incident with Damara Megido. You're glad that Damara and Rufioh broke up. Damara was fire and Rufioh was gasoline. Mixed together they were a deadlier shit storm to everyone and everything on or near their path.

Damara Megido is also **_a huge bitch_**, to everyone for various reasons that make you want to claw her eyes out over her own stupidity, but you don't really want to get into that right now. In simple terms, she makes you madder than any cat that has ever had rabies and cat nip, both in their system at the same exact fucking time. It's horrendous.

Setting up Rufioh and Horuss to be together is what you count to be as your greatest shipping achievement ever. This also is the couple that helps fuel your enthusiasm to ship your friends, seeing how well these two are together creates you to believe that your other friends could be happier, if helped by a professional matchmaker.

Especially if, that professional was you.

Now back to the state of business, since the adorable free show of recently established couples interaction is over. Convincing the tuna to swim close enough to the edge of the river, to strike it out on dry land with the rest of your friends will not be easy… but under the circumstances filled and set by yourself you are going to do this.

The price of shipping info is _very_ expensive. You should meow to Horuss after you get finished texting Mituna.

From: "Pestering Cat Woman"

Subject: (=^**o**ω**o**^=): M33OW MAIL TO AN UNIN-FUR-M33D TUNA!

Date: June 11, 2006 02:20:06

To: Mituna Captor

(=^•ω•^=): HELLO TUNA!

(=^ω^=): YOU PAW-OBABLY WEREN'T PRO-PURR-LY FUR-MILIARIZED FUR THE MEETING TODAY.

(=^0^=): IT STARTS AT FOUR, IN THE PARK, AND ALL OUR FUR-IENDS ARE GOING TO BE PURR-ESENT.

(=•ω•=): DON'T BE LATE TUNA! OTH33RWIS33 YOU WILL MISS ALL THE FUN!

Message Sent

From: "Tuna-Can"

Date: June 11, 2006 02:22:22

Subject: 4LR34DY 1NF0RM3D

To: Meulin Leijon

1M N07 G01NG

50 D0N7 45K

Message Sent

Well…. someone's cranky and it's not Kankri. Something is wrong your senses tell you.

You need to solve his problem now, because it's definitely one of those things that will most certainly come back around and bite you harder on the ass later. Like a dog…One bit you when you petted it… then when you turned your back on it to leave it alone… It literally bit your rear… You don't like dogs and dogs don't like you.

This is uncomfortable subject to go on about, so let's get back to topic.

From: "Pestering Cat Woman"

Subject: (=**0**^**0**=): WHAT IS PAWING AT YOU?

Date: June 11, 2006 02:25:56

To: Mituna Captor

(=O^O=): WHY NOT? CRONUS AND LATULA WILL BE THERE TO HANG OUT WITH.

(=0^0=): WHAT IS WRONG? YOU'RE BEING PAWFULLY PURR-UDE.

(=o-o=): IF YOU ARE PAW-CTUALLY FUR-ETFUL ABOUT LEAVING YOUR BROTHER ALONE, YOU CAN BRING HIM. KARKAT AND NE-PURR-TA ARE GOING TO BE THERE.

(=^•ω•^=): MY LITTLE SISTER WOULD SIM-PURR-LE MEWL IN JOY FUR-OM BEING WITH MORE FUR-IENDS.

Message Sent

From: "Tuna-Can"

Date: June 11, 2006 02:27:24

Subject: 4 FUCK1NG N05Y C4T 817CH 15 WH4T 15 P4W1NG 4T M3

To: Meulin Leijon

83C4U53 N0

175 N0NE 0F Y0UR 8335 W4X

Y37 H3R3 Y0U 4R3 7RY1NG 70 M4K3 17 Y0UR 0WN 15 WH475 WR0NG

L34V3 17 4ND M3 7H3 FUCK 4L0N3 L13J0N

Message Sent

From: "Pestering Cat Woman"

Subject: Okay, I'm done with shenanigans at you calling me a bitch

Date: June 11, 2006 02:29:57

To: Mituna Captor

Mituna.

Tell me what happened or I'm going straight to Cronus.

Was it something with your little brother again?

Message Sent

He has irked you by setting you into the type of situation that you hate the most. That special kind of situation, where actions taken, and results given are not really going anywhere, but opposite of where you want it to go. A situation going from bad to worse, the kind that happens anytime it's involved with Damara.

Another reason you hate dislike her.

You really don't like pulling the tattletale card because it's really immature, but Mituna is not going to budge on his opinions or emotions if he is seriously angry.

He seemed angry enough to call you a nosy cat bitch. It was necessary.

Being called the nosy cat part didn't irritate you at all as being a matchmaker needs you to be meddlesome, but calling you a bitch is another two whole different areas of insult.

From: "Tuna-Can"

Date: June 11, 2006 02:31:51

Subject: Fuck, wait….

To: Meulin Leijon

Meulin, I'm sorry…

Calling you a bitch was uncalled for…

I was just taking my anger out on you, so im sorry for that too.

Yes. It was another scramble with my brother.

Message Sent

From: "Pestering Cat Woman"

Subject: Alright you're fur-given… this time…

Date: June 11, 2006 02:33:33

To: Mituna Captor

(=^o-o^=): What was it over? If it got you this mad, it has to be something purr-etty im-paw-tant.

Message Sent

From: "Tuna-Can"

Date: June 11, 2006 02:35:22

Subject: Understood

To: Meulin Leijon

It was over…

Chinese Honey Chicken…

Message Sent

From: "Pestering Cat Woman"

Subject: …

Date: June 11, 2006 02:37:06

To: Mituna Captor

Seriously, Mituna?

Chinese Honey Chicken …

That's a really stupid reason to be angry.

Message Sent

From: "Tuna-Can"

Date: June 11, 2006 02:40:08

Subject: Explanation

To: Meulin Leijon

That's not what got me angry

It just pissed me off that my little brother ate my food when he had his own

A lot of shit has been piling up all day and that just set me into a pissed off mood

No, it was when he started giving me shit back after calling him out on the shitty ass move he pulled

We got into a heated argument and… we started throwing things across the room at each other…

Message Sent

From: "Pestering Cat Woman"

Subject: ARE YOU OKAY?!

Date: June 11, 2006 02:40:39

To: Mituna Captor

NEITHER OF YOU TWO ARE HURT RIGHT?!

Message Sent

From: "Tuna-Can"

Date: June 11, 2006 02:42:27

Subject: We are fine.

To: Meulin Leijon

Neither of us is hurt, so calm down, okay?

After a whole china tea set was thrown across the room Sollux stormed the fuck out of the parlor to his bed room.

He didn't look like he was bleeding anywhere when he pushed past me.

I only watched him go to his room and slam the door shut.

I couldn't stand looking at him anymore after that.

I'm in the garage right now, fixing up my skateboard. Chilling down.

Tried calling Cronus before you started texting me, but got his voicemail, so that didn't help my aggravation…

Message Sent

From: "Pestering Cat Woman"

Subject: (=TωT=): That's a purr-elief.

Date: June 11, 2006 02:43:39

To: Mituna Captor

(=0^0=): IM CALM BUT CONCERNED.

(=o_o=) : DO YOU PAW-SOBILY KNOW WHY HE WAS ACTING LIKE THAT?

Message Sent

From: "Tuna-Can"

Date: June 11, 2006 02:45:21

Subject: 53R10U5 74LK 4LM057 0V3R?

To: Meulin Leijon

N07 R3ALLY

1 H4V3N7 833N H0M3 L4T3LY 70 R34LLY P155 H1M 0FF

1V3 833N 574Y1NG W17H K4NKR1 4ND KURL0Z

50 1 D0N7 KN0W WH47 H15 PR08L3M 15

Message Sent

From: "Pestering Cat Woman"

Subject: (=^•_•^=): PAW-BABLY? YOU DONE BEING A CRANKY CAT TODAY?

Date: June 11, 2006 02:4:06

To: Mituna Captor

(^•o•^): DO YOU THINK IT COULD BE THAT?

(^•_•^): YOU NOT SPENDING ENOUGH TIME WITH HIM SO HE'S FUR-IOUS WITH YOU?

(=`ω´=)''': MY SIS GETS LIKE THAT WHEN SHE FEELS I HAVEN'T PURRLAYED WITH HER THAT DAY.

(^_^)''': SHE DOESN'T THROW HER TEA SET AT ME THOUGH. NO OFFENSE.

(^._.^)"'': WORSE PAW-ART ABOUT IT IS SHE PAW-WAYS PURR-ESUMES IM GOING TO NOTICE HOW SHES F3333LING FROM HER AP-PURR-OACH TOWARDS ME.

Message Sent

From: "Tuna-Can"

Date: June 11, 2006 02:45:21

Subject: Y35, 1M D0N3 831NG K4NKR1

To: Meulin Leijon

M4Y83

N0 0FF3N53 700K3N

17 C0ULD 3XPL41N 17 7H0UGH

7H4NK5

Message Sent

From: "Pestering Cat Woman"

Subject: (=^ω^=): LOL

Date: June 11, 2006 02:47:58

To: Mituna Captor

(=^•ω•^=): NO PURR-OBL33M!

(=^ω^=): YOU COULD BRING PAW-LLUX TO THE GET-TOGETHER~

(=^•ω•^=): I DON'T KNOW. YOUR PURR-EFERENCE.

(=^*ω*^=): I WOULD LOVE IT IF YOU COULD COME FUR SOME QUESTIONING MEOW-EVER!

(=^ω^=): NO PURR-33SSUR33!

Message Sent

From: "Tuna-Can"

Date: June 11, 2006 02:50:41

Subject: H3H3H3 _5C0R3_: M3= +20; K4NKR1= -2

To: Meulin Leijon

1 W1LL MO57 L1K3LY C0M3

8U7 1 W1LL R3QU1R3 80YFR13ND 53DUC710N 83F0R3 7H3N

50 D0N7 807H3R U5 71LL 0N3 0F U5 C0N74C75 Y0U

Message Sent

From: "Pestering Cat Woman"

Subject: (=ω=): LOL! KANKRI HAS NEGITIVE TWO !

Date: June 11, 2006 02:47:58

To: Mituna Captor

(=^•ω•^=): PURR-F33CT!

(=^*ω*^=): ILL B33 PATI33NTLY ANTICI-PAW-TING YOUR AP-PURR-ANC33 FUR PAW-RYING!

(=ω=): BY33 BY33! MEOW LATER!

Message Sent

From: "Tuna-Can"

Date: June 11, 2006 02:50:41

Subject: 1M 4LW4YS 22 4H34D

To: Meulin Leijon

0K4Y

533 Y0U L473R

Message Sent

You have a deviously cute smile lacing your face after successfully gaining information on a pair of shipped friends and completing the mission. It wasn't easy, but you succeeded in making a free show of adorable feels!

Now that shipping business is done, you need to go drag Horuss away from Rufioh and have a quick feelings jam with your much needed BFF. It'll be a nice relaxant from the stress of matching your friends and checking on relationships. If you left everyone alone, there would most likely be nobody dating right now. They don't know how much you work behind the scenes of their relationships and don't really need to know.

Some call you devious.

You agree with them.

And you love it.

(=^*ω*^=)

After that, you need to go home, pack the picnic basket full of food for the party, and get your little sister ready!

This will be an exciting party and you can't wait for 4 PM today! (=^ω^=)

⇒Be Cronus Ampora

You are currently steeping out of the bathroom into the hot unaired conditioned single room apartment. You only have a white towel hanging loosely around your waist, covering the lower half down your hipbones and to your thighs as you exit the bathroom. You had just finished taking a mildly warm shower.

The hard water that runs through your complex is not temperature regulated, so the weather temperature outside is the "hot" or "cold" water you get. You count yourself lucky that the law requires that there be clean water running through the system, otherwise you would be mooching off your boyfriend's and Kankri's utilizes more than you already do. Your land lords barely pass the inspection tests each time they occur.

You have yet to dry off, so you are still wet from the water sticking to your skin and tired from your long day of work. You take the towel from your waist, start with drying your hair, and progress down your body as you wobbly hop around the room to your stacked pile of clean clothes on the floor next to the closed blinds of the window. You don't ever peek outside between the blinds unless someone knocks on your door, because no pretty or trusted view lies out in the exposed enough for you to keep those shades open. You live in the hood as some would call it.

You call it living on the wild and dangerous side of life.

You're supposed to do that. You're a Cool Cat.

…And you love pissing off your Father.

After drying yourself for a full minute, you throw the towel into the pile of laundry that needs to be washed down at the local laundry mat in town. You pick out a white tank top, leisurely fitting skinny jeans, and a pair of black boxers with silver motorcycles designing them in a diagonal pattern. The kind only cool guys wear, despite what Mituna thinks of them.

You throw on the clothes and flop onto your pricey bed. This is one of the two items that are actually quality good and both you didn't buy. It was a gift from your boyfriend after he found out, and complained, about your old bed and the few utilities that are placed along the yellow tinted white walls and rough, cheap-stained light brown carpeted floor of the room.

You glance up around the room tiredly from your day's work taking its toll on you. The few items you bought put a little pride in yourself each time you look at them for being able to buy them with your own money, even if, they're not viewed as high quality items to own.

An inexpensive 10X9 inch TV sits in front of the bed on a little foldable stand table, a battery powered fan is propped up next to the right wall turned off, a mini fridge in the top left corner of the room, a small 900 watt microwave beside the fridge, a cheap coffee pot on the floor, a small round table high enough to squeeze your skinny legs underneath, a pile of failed mix tape cases in the right corner and a cute honey bee styled analog clock hangs on the wall, next to the worn out colored wood of your door. The clock is happily read as currently 2: 53 PM.

The bee clock is the second quality present your boyfriend gave you, because he thought you needed something to lighten up the place. It works like a charm, because whenever you look at it, you get the flutter fuzzy feeling in your chest as you're reminded he bought this for you, and it makes you happy to know he causes you to feel like this. You are sure you love this guy, despite if he can be a complete idiot and douche sometimes.

Having to pay for your own food, furniture, clothes, gas, phone and cable bills, unequally splits up your pay check as you work part time at the shop. You could barely afford the old reused bed on half price at the swap meet in your town after you first left the Ampora house. Being fourteen and leaving the house with little to no recorded work experience, a suit case of clothes, a roll of a few hundred bills from working on selling crappy mix tapes and pawning car parts from your dad's favorite vehicles is one crappy hand. You remind yourself though, it could have been much worse, to stay positive…

You had money transferred into a bank account for many years, but all the money in there was immediately removed from it by your father, after he gave up on trying to model you after him. It didn't matter, if he did take the money in that bank account. You NOT ONCE were planning to touch it.

You had received the money from him in the first place, and it was always as a reward for the deeds you followed in his instructions. An award from him for finally obeying, doing as he wished, and he has told you, he finds people that don't fear him work better with a reward and punishment system. You fit into the 'not feared into obeying' category.

The money was a symbolism of rotten, painful experience, and subtle compensation for the occurrences, so you weren't sad to hear it was gone. You didn't want to touch the money that was soiled with your blood from past retaliation, until the point you gave in to his demands. The state of action was never worth the award from him… And it never will be.

You only do it now, to prevent your brother getting beaten for your unwilling corporation. You hate your father.

You're sure your father is the devil reincarnated. You hate him down to your very core of your being and certain you always will.

You hear a ring tone throughout your room, ending your complicated thoughts and depressing feelings jam.

"Oh-o-o-oa, oh-o-o-o ~

Oh-o-o-oa, oh-o-o-o~

Sweet little bumble bee,

I know what you want from me!

Dup-i-dup-i-do la da,

Dup-i-dup-i-do la da~

Sweet little bumble bee,

More than just a fantasy!

Dup-i-dup-i-do la da,

Dup-i-dup-i-do la da~"

The ring tone rolls onto playing the tune over again. It makes you smile any time you hear it. You get up from relaxing your muscles on the soft, sturdy bed and quickly stride to the small table holding your phone. You pick it up, flip it open before the ring ends, and place it next to your ear.

You swiftly hear a grumpy, irritated voice, "About time you picked up the phone. I called you twice, thirty-five minutes ago, and got your shitty motorcycle themed voicemail each time."

He must have gotten into a fight with his brother, or hasn't taken a migraine reliever yet. He only gives attitude first thing to you like this under those two circumstances. You've learned not to progress the head ache or feel his wrath.

You have been together for the last eight months, and your relationship progressed _extremely_ slowly, even though you both are extremely cocky and flirtatious. You both had emotional details to share with each other, trust to build, and disagreements to settle. It wasn't up until three months ago, that your relationship finally made a complete home run. Right now though it's a bit strained due to a specific subject that has been causing nasty spats between you two, you hope to clear the air with tonight's confession.

"Hey, My-tuna. Yeah, sorry. I vwas taking a shovwer. I got off vwork about fifty minutes ago. Also my ring tone is not shitty, since I made it. Anything I mix is made into quality sounds all the time, so it has great wvalue." Pause of conversation. You hear shuffling, untranslatable whispers and what you think is the sound of a door being closed from his side of the line, before he starts talking to you again.

"Your 'quality' mix tapes are shitty, but cute, because you made them. Your habit of singing in the shower is cute too. I bet you were doing it when I called you, weren't you. Dork."

You can tell he's slightly smiling right now from the change in tone, and affection he uses in calling you a 'dork'. Whatever happened on the other line to make him converse you aren't going to question, but just enjoy the alteration.

You use a sarcastic tone as you speak haughtily, "I'm not a dork for letting flovw out my musical talents. Plus, you knovw you like my wvocals."

You're trying to flip the table's weight of embarrassment onto him. You have a light blush and an unsure smirk on right now. Your heart is pounding a little bit as you listen to him with his light, devilishly chuckle sound out your mobile phone. You like listening to his little snickers and laugh. They make you smile.

"I like it better when you scream out my name using those vocals. If you made a mix tape of that, then I might willingly listen to it on repeat." You know he's smirking as his voice is laced with his cocky and flirting features.

The tables have ultimately fallen onto you, and a crushing blush is spread across your face. You mange out a muffled, "VWhat ewver perwvert..." You hear him snickering across the line. Maybe hearing his snickers don't make you smile all the time.

You tell him to shut up, resulting in only adding to more snickering from his side of the line.

It dies out after a moment though, and you hear his voice again. "Now to the reason I called. I wanted to ask you about the two messages you sent me." His tone is calm, with a slight serious ring.

Your heart is pounding from slow and relaxing, to a faster excited, panicky beat.

"Oh, uhmm, yeah." Your voice is a bit higher pitched and wavy as you reply anxiously.

Get yourself together! You aren't confessing right now!

"There is going to be a meeting at four, and Meulin kept bugging me to bring you along. Told her you vwere busy, but she vwas not letting me go tell I agreed. Kitten probably needs us for one of her shipping interwvievws and status update on our relationship. You knovw hovw she is vwith hawving her 'Ships' Sailing Reports'."

Wonderful, that didn't sound desperate to change the subject or make an excuse in any way possible.

"Yes, I know. I still don't know if I can come though, with having to watch my little brother." (IT WORKED?) You sigh a silent bit of relief as the subject has successfully changed and your heart calms down.

"You could bring Sollux along. Kankri's little cousin and Meulin's little sister is going to be there. They could play together." You really want him to be there tonight. You want to make things right, to be the one to make his seventeenth birthday become special because he feels it's unimportant. It's extremely important to you though, so want to share this feeling. You made a special way you are going to tell him how you feel.

Mix tape recording of your love.

The best Cool Cat swage you could provide him with.

It'll change his mind on your skills.

Definitely.

"Yes, that is exactly why I'm reluctant to go. If I go I would have to bring him along with me and I don't really wanna have to deal with his bull shit more than I already have tonight." He sounds tired and irritated, maybe you could…

"Do you vwanna talk about it?" You voice is wisping concern into the telephone. You hear him softly sigh.

"No. I'm fine. Just the usual nit picking between us." You understand the feeling and want to continue on the subject because of his response sets you on unease and concern, but the feelings of being a failure as an older brother yourself clouds your mind. You choose not to dig any deeper on the matter.

He continues after the slight pause, "Though I do want to talk to you about the second message you sent me." his voice has a snarky tone to it like he's trumped you.

Oh shit. He has.

He has flipped the subject to the problem you were avoiding.

He probably avoided the subject on purpose to spring it on you later.

Snide, clever, handsome bastard and you love him for it.

What will you do now? Ascend or Descend? Abscond?

⇒Be someone less panicky

You are the coolest man in this town with anime shades on, named Dirk Strider, age 23, and the most cynical sense of humor in being honest. Irony, though you try not to hang onto the bit of humor so much anymore, because your job requires it. Being a cop is serious business and you or others could die, if you made the wrong choices. Ironic honesty tends not to be the best humor when a person is on the line of death and survival.

You have recently moved to this town because of a new promotion, and a better payroll to support yourself and your six year old brother, Dave Strider.

You were a newly graduated police officer when your parents were murdered. Your father was well known hardboiled detective and your mother was a retired martial artist teacher, and a stay at home mother. Your mother and father fell in love like an ironic detective love story and you were born from the fit of their passions. Seventeen years later your father did another big detective case concerning some high class secretive business involving the mobs, and your little brother was born nine months after the escapade was solved. Irony of your births is you both have random flares of passion to thank for being alive today, but you two make it habit to never express emotion.

Your parents told you since you were old enough to comprehend them that there was always going to be the possibility that your Father and Mother might not come home one day. They stopped mentioning after your thirteenth birthday. You brushed it off as a dumb paranoia they had finally gotten over.

They never explained what they meant.

An anonymous tipper called about your parents' body parts at 10:25 in the morning. Your parents were last seen alive at a restaurant for a romantic late lunch break at 3:14 then disappeared after going through an alley. The killer left only a few clues behind with your parents' limbs and organs jarred and labeled for display on the sidewalk outside of an abandoned house. The cuts, incisions, and removal of their organs were pronounced to have been done by a professional, and no drugs, relaxants, or medicines were shown in their blood from the toxin and autopsy reports. That means they were alive and fully conscious to their surroundings, when the sick bastard started taking them apart piece by piece. You used to have nightmares about your parents' last night alive. The screams, the blood, the pain, the terror, the fear, all you imagined they felt. You woke up in cold sweats and screaming, constantly for the next month.

Two separate green felt colored notes were stuck on the jar containing your father's brain and mother's heart. Pasted on one of the notes with colorful letters spelling out, **LORD ENGLISH** and the other was written in white ink, "It was fun hosting the party. I am simply and certainly the best host that has ever existed, and will host again at a later date.

Sincerely,

Doc Scratch"

Your father's case from when he first met your mother and fell in love, the one before you were born, was re-opened. It sets a grimace on your impressionable visage anytime you are mentioned to about a topic relating your parents.

The pair of grandparents on your mother's side are already permanently at rest with your grandmother on your father's side. Your only living adult relative is your grandfather on your father's side, but he is currently placed in a retirement home and you have no other known relatives. Orphanages were not an option to you. You and your dead parents would never forgive you for doing something as selfish as leave the little squirt in such an indecisive system.

This left your four year old brother in your care at the age of twenty one. You had a hell of a time, when you first saw him in the living room at your parents' house… or your house now. You were apart from each other about two arm lengths and this was the first time you had seen your brother in three years. You knew Dave was your brother, but he didn't exactly know who you were. This made the situation more complicated than you wanted it to be.

He stood trembling and shocked in front of you as he first saw you. You gave nothing away in your expression as you looked him over. He was short, blond hair, brownish almost red irises, holding a stuffed white crow toy in his arms, and had a pale white complexion. He was the spitting image of your father, only fluffier, innocent, and scared.

You were holding back tears on your eye lids, hidden away from view behind your shades.

You bent to his level, gave him a small smile, waved "hi" to him and waited for his follow up of a wave. It came slow, a bit uncertain from his right hand and he kept a steady hold of his stuffed bird with his left arm. You spoke first.

"Yo." You tipped your head up to him in a show of gestures and acknowledgement. You kept your voice even and gave nothing away in the sound of grief in the tone.

"Yo."He said back uncertainty still rang in his voice and body language as he squeezed his bird stuffy closer to him.

"Cool bird." He looks surprised you pointed out his stuffy. Perfect tactic is to let him come to you, don't aggress.

"It's a crow." He holds it out in front of him for you to get a good look at it. You nod at him in acknowledgement.

"Crows are cool." He gives you a small smile and hugs his crow stuffy again.

It's silent for a moment as he looks you over. He's the first to break it after a good enough inspection of you.

"My name is Dave Strider. I'm four years old, and I like crows." He is heart wrenchingly adorable in his little self-introduction. He's looking at you to introduce yourself now. If he's going to introduce himself you might as well do so too.

"I am Dirk Strider. I'm twenty-one years old and I like heroes." Too young to really know what a police officer or any other hard working task force for the public is, so call them what their other name is. Heroes.

"Your last name is Strider too?" He's stepping a little bit closer to you out of curiosity, but still out of reach.

"Yeah, little dude. I'm your older brother. You're Bro."

He stops fidgeting closer and just looks up at you in confusion.

"You're my brother?" You nod your head and slowly remove your shades, showing him your own light brown almost orange tinted eyes. The eyes you had shared with your mother.

He takes a step forward, reaches out a hand to your face, makes contact with your cheek, and you finely notice the tears sliding down your face.

"Why are you crying?" He innocently asks with concern as he wipes a tear away. He continues on, "Mom says big boys don't cry. You have pretty eyes like Mom." You feel yourself freeze up, the small smile you had turn into a frown and your expression contorts into a look of sadness at the mention of your similarity to your mother's eyes. You look down to the ground avoiding his gaze as the image of you mother eyes floats in a jar from the murder comes into mind. Your stomach is doing flips and twirls, making you feel your face go a shade paler.

"Do you know when mom and dad will be back?" He felt you freeze up and you look up at him. All the curiosity and innocence lingering over the sentence is as clear as day on his face, and it crushes your heart.

He sees your expression directed at him and he removes his hand with confusion clearly written over his face as he frowns at you. You know what's coming next because he wasn't crying when you first met. You hate what you have to do. But he needs to know, they're his parents too.

"Where are mommy and daddy?" He takes a wary step back from you with fear back in his eyes. Your parents must have told him of the possibility too. He's clenching into his stuffy and huddling it to his chest. He looks terrified.

"Mom and Dad aren't coming back little bro." He's starting to back up farther from you, shaking head left to right and tears are building from his eyes. "No, no, no. You're lying!" He looks like he's about to flee in denial, but you quickly have him in a gripping hug before he can run away. He's fighting you to get out of your hold, to escape reality, to go back to the small safety and hope supplied in the possibility of the bitter-sweet unknown.

This continues until he cannot produce the energy to support himself. He's slacking against you, clenching your shirt, shuddering, heavily sobbing, and whimpering 'you're a liar' into your shoulder.

You wish right now you were, even though you know you're not. You wish this was you playing a cruel joke.

All you can do is hold yourself on your knees, produce a shooshing sound, and hug him supplying comfort in understanding his pain while crying together.

This is the first night you both bonded and was not the last time you cried with your brother. You both cried and cried that night until he and you passed out on the couch together.

You found out over the next month during your hellish nightmares, they vanished more each time Dave and Cal, his white crow stuffy, calm you back to sleep. He asks you what you dream about but you never give him a clear answer. _'He doesn't need to know how our parents died. Not now at least.' _ This is the thought that clouds your mind when he questions you.

Eventually when he puts a stop to your side stepping out about the subject, he'll be ready for the truth.

In a month's time you were fine sleeping by yourself, but Dave was having trouble detaching himself from you. It took another month to stop his habit, but it was adorable he was sneaking into your bed to you nuzzle with you. He said he was scared by himself, that's why it lasted a month instead of you picking him up and placing him in his bed the first time.

You got a weak spot for your brother's teary eyed pouting face. You started teaching him the Stride way to ensure he never uses this trick on you. It would be the death of you, if you didn't enforce the technic of silent expression.

It was hard trying to support yourself and your brother emotionally, but you stayed strong. It saddens you greatly when you think Dave will never be able to experience what you did as a child growing up with your parents that loved you and did what they did for you, but you will try to do whatever you can and love him all you are able, to the best of your abilities to act as a parent. This meant you had to stop a lot your bad habits to be a good role model, or least some of your habits… Your katana collection and eating out habits stayed with you mostly.

Mourning and bonding before finding an agency to work for was made a little easier by your parents' insurance money and selling off their estate. It was worth spending the money because by the end of your time spent recuperating, Dave was able to go to kindergarten and day care, while you were working at an agency.

You are patrolling around the city at 10:30 AM with donuts and coffee because it's comically ironic, in your new cop car with your new partner, Jake English. He is an adventurous young lad, 22 years old, and you have a growing admiration for the way he handles himself, others, and his job. You expect great things to come around with him by your side.

Platonically this thought is of course. You would not crush on a new partner just for his looks or his hold on a gun.

Yeah, no. You totally would, because you are currently doing that, but you'd rather be in denial to focus on work and not the way he can pull the trigger at the firing range. Hot damn does he got some aim.

You're on the usual Thursday schedule of working from 9:00 AM till 5:00 PM, pick up Dave at 5:15 PM from daycare, order a medium cheese and large meat lover's pizza, and chill out in your apartment. Either watching TV while drinking apple juice, playing videogames, swatting stupid feathery assholes out of your apartment if a window was left open, or teaching your little bro how to make sweet as hell remixes and raps in the afternoons. You best enjoy showing the 'next master remixer', how to record a slick and hot burn that sets ice caps of the North Pole ablaze from transpired heat waves. Your first introductions to each rhymed a bit, so you thought he would enjoy and be pretty sweet at rapping. You were not disappointed in your assumption of his potential. He will be a great musician in time.

You are currently working on your best new project of a stuffy for him, because recently Cal was left at the park and when you went back to get him, he wasn't there any longer. You searched high and low for that damn bird and found nothing. Your little brother cried and cried because that was the last gift he had gotten from your parents.

You haven't gone to try finding him a new stuff of that type because your mother had the graceful habit to sow toys for you when you were a child. She taught you how to sow because you showed interest in her creations and pets when you were a child, but you haven't sown in so long you have forgotten how to. You can only presume she had sown the white crow stuffy for your lil bro. He's told you he doesn't want you to buy him another stuffy for him.

Hopefully he'll like the new 'stuffy' or 'friend' your sowing up for him. In honor of Cal his name is going to be Lil Cal.

The next generation of cheerful-delight to make your bro happy again. This sweet assed plan is ironically settled in fool proof wrapping paper to succeed. No double backlash wave of irony could fail this epic scheme.

Nothing could ruin this. Nothing.

Regardless of the past conditions of how you came to take care of him, you are glad your little brother is in your life, he has made you and your life better. You hope you can make his life at least a little bit as good as he should have had with your parents. You love your little bro and would bite several hundred bullets for the little squirt.

⇒BE MITUNA CAPTOR

PSYCHE

(WHO WANTS TO BE THIS GUY? HE'S JUST SEXTING RIGHT NOW.)

⇒Be Meulin Leijon

You are currently a sixteen year old teenager girl, Meulin Leijon, height of 5'8", and cannot understand what your little sister is going on about as she keeps twirling and pouncing about like the excited six year old she is. If her face stayed visible, you could understand her no purr-oblem, but she has switched to rolling around on the carpet of your house floor.

Your family house is littered with trophy cases from your parents' younger days, yours, and your little sister's awards to be placed in. Your family is bred for sports and loves being active. One of the few perks to having ADHD and playing sports is that you always have ENERGY to spend on playing.

Mom refuses to keep any of you on medicine for ADHD, because she says it messes with your natural ability to perform well in athletics. True as that is, you all could severely use it for paying attention at work and/or school. You failed Algebra 2 because you couldn't focus, and now are supposed to be going to credit recovery courses this summer.

Bluh, Summer School. You plan to skip that by spending time with your fur-iends. (=^•^=)

That is… if, Horuss doesn't find out about your summer lessons… (^._.^)"'

Your sister has stopped hopping around like a wild cat, pulling on your shirt sleeve, and looking up at you with an adorably cute expression, "Yes, Nepurrta?" (=^ω^=) You enjoy being with your little sister because you share many hobbies besides just sports. You both love cats, roleplaying, and shipping your friends! You two are the greatest pair of shipping bosses around!

People and couples faint, and bow in respect from your swag, when you walk by them together. You're just that perfect pair of matchmakers. You both know you own the power of the ship.

At least you believe so, when you aren't having a catfight over who the most PURRFECTIEST of pairings are…

You still say Gamzee and your little Sister would be an adorable ship together…. This pairing is not influenced. Or that is just the excuse you keep telling your sister, so she doesn't give you her suspicious filled looks of doubt and worry.

You watch her face and the motion of her lips, the rise of her cheeks, the pauses, flicks, positioning, the wrinkling, creases, the angle, and shapes of o's and side way D's of her lips and mouth she makes, as she speaks. Memorized motioning of the face, mouth, and lips took a good three years of tutoring with ADHD medicine. Your Dad persuaded your Mother into giving it to you while you learned for that and the one year for hand sign language.

You hated taking the medicine, because it always was rough to swallow, you felt different than normal, tired and just felt like your mother had said. Unnatural.

After you had finished learning at the age of fourteen, you have not swollen a pill in two years and had started up doing gymnastics again. You love the sport, even if it did help you go deaf. You don't blame it, or Kurloz…

"Meowlin, when are we purrouncing to the park! Also is Karkitty going to be there too!? :33" She is adorably fidgeting, trying to control herself in one place to speak to you. You have only heard your sister's voice as a baby before you lost your hearing. You have no idea how it has changed, but you can blurrily imagine it as cute, sweet, high pitched, and sort of squeaky. Much like your own voice when you where her age…

You know she has a crush on the young, grumpy Vantas child, as odd and obnoxious as his cousin Kankri can be, you find it cute, and love making little set up play dates. Nepeta refuses to try with Gamzee, much to your disappointment you let it pass… (=TωT=)

"It is 3:33 P.M., Nepurrta. We will be purr-ouncing to the park in just thirteen minutes befur four. Also what I caught fur-rum Kankri, his purr-founded little cousin, is being dragged along for us to purr-lay with at the park. Free mice and range to catch!" (=^ω^=)

"MEWOW! :DD" "That is paw-sotively paw-esome! Purr-fect chance to show Karkitty my new gymnastic moves! X33" She's super excited and bouncy and you are having a little bit of a hard time keeping up with her chatty mouth, "Hey Meowlin! Is Kurloz going to be there today too? You could show hi-"

"No!" Nepeta is shocked by your rudeness, objection, and outburst as her attitude and body motions stop suddenly. Save the conversation, quick! He is not a discussion you would like to talk about with her. Change the subject!

"Uhm… Yes Kurloz will most purrosibly be there, but no, I don't need to show off to Kurloz my new purr-actices. He purr-obably wouldn't be interested in my purr-formance anyway. You should just care fur any ap-purr-ehensions you might be having about catching your purr-ey. I will just in-fur-mally meow with others, paw-right?" (=^ω^=)'"

(Smooth~)

She stares at you quizzically, and you know she's processing everything you said very carefully, a perfect protégé matchmaker always tries to find a deeper meaning in the words of a person uses to describe another! "Hmmm~. Well~ if that's how you purr-etty much feel about it, and then I guess I will leap back off about the meow-tter at paw. For right now, though! ;33" You taught her a _liittle_ too well.

She winks at you from the ground looking up, leaps off the living room carpet, and scampers away on all fours like an excited little kitten. She is surely your sister and no one could deny you two are two kitty-cat like peas in a shipping control pod.

You would never choose a different 1st mate for your shipping armada…. Maybe add co-captain, though….

You feel the vibrations of your phone in your pocket and take it out. Two people have just sent you meow-mail.

You open the oldest one first. Furst purrsented, furst served milk.

From: "FishyFlirter"

Subject: Ansvwer to a cute kitten

Date: June 15, 2006 03:36:40 PM

To: Meulin Leijon

hey, kitten.

just finished texting my-tuna.

he's coming to the meeting.

Message Sent

From: "Kitten"

Subject: (=^•ω•^=) Answer for a cute kitten?

Date: June 15, 2006 03:39:47 PM

To: Cronus Ampora

\ (=^-ω-^=)/PURR-F33CT!

/ (=^ω^=)\ALSO PURR-HEPS YOU MEANT

\ (^•ω•^)/TO MEOW INSTEAD OF

/ (^•o•^)\"TEXTING" AS "MEOW-TING"

\ (=^•^=)/OR "SEXTING" YOUR BOY-FUR-IEND

Message Sent

From: "FishyFlirter"

Subject: Ansvwer to a cute kitten part 2

Date: June 15, 2006 03:40:42 PM

To: Meulin Leijon

vwouldn't you like to knovw. *squiggles eyebrows* S:J

Message Sent

From: "Kitten"

Subject: LOL!

Date: June 15, 2006 03:42:48 PM

To: Cronus Ampora

(=^•^=): NOOOOO~ LOL!

~ (=ω=) ~: ALSO THAT FACE IS PURR-E-PAW-STEROUS!

(=^ω^=)/: MEOW TO YOU AT THE PARTY!

Message Sent

Now time for the second message!

From: "STRONGb100Bronco"

Subject: Pardon my horsing you

Date: June 15, 2006 03:37:48 PM

To: Meulin Leijon

8=D Pardon me if this brea% any gallant steed of thought, but I acquire an e%tra %stimation of whine would behoof the best time to gallop to the meeting, and neigh with you?

Message Sent

From: "ProwlingHuntress"

Subject: (=^•ω•^=)

Date: June 15, 2006 03:44:48 PM

To: Horuss Zahhak

\ (=^•^=)/HELLO HORUSS!

(=ω=)"''I A-PURR-LOGIZE FUR THE DELAY!

\(=^•ω•^=)/BUT I HAD TO PURR-SIDE TO ANOTHER MESSAGE THAT CAME IN BE-FUR YOURS!

(=^ω^=) ANY-PAW PURR-LEASE BE ATTENDENT TO THE PARK PARTY AT 4:00P.M.

Message Sent

From: "STRONGb100Bronco"

Subject: No an interlude is e%pected

Date: June 15, 2006 03:46:50 PM

To: Meulin Leijon

8=D E%quisite. The party will be commenced in the park.

8=D I shall trample STRONGLY forwards as we dis%ussed after we finished our trotting horse play at **S**TRONGEST **T**echni%ian **A**ssembly **L**aborers **L**inguist%s **I**ncorporated **O**bligated **N**on-notoriety **S**ystem.

Message Sent

Nobody except, the Zahhak family, and maybe Rufioh really uses the full pronounced name for STALLIONS. The name is way to long for the auto shop and is sort of lame if you knew the real meaning of the name for it, so everybody just took the beginning letters for each word and it oddly came out to the catchy name STALLIONS.

You look at the time. 3:48 PM. You grab the picnic basket for the party from the kitchen, walk to the front door, and call for Nepeta. She comes bouncing along down the hall with her small pack on her back, most likely carrying her plastic tea set and a few other items to play with at the park. She holds your hand as you lead out the door, and walk safely with her to the park. You live closest to the park out of all your friends and it usually only takes an eight minute walk there.

Within the next ten minutes you are bound to see Kurloz and pass him a wistful look. He will turn away from you because of the guilt of having set up your accident to make you go deaf. He doesn't even need to or can't say to anyone he feels guilty about it, because he can't speak. He went mute and lost his voice from the traumatic shock because he couldn't handle the stress. He can't, won't, and will not allow himself to forgive himself for hurting you, he is ashamed of himself to come near you and is afraid of what he could accidently do when he's with you to hurt you. He comes to your events but only when pushed on the subject by Mituna, because you ask Mituna to do that as a debt clearance.

You have been stuck in this disastrous stalemate for six years since you broke up and you are tired of it.

Today you are going to change this because the sounds you once remembered from six years ago are starting to blur and this scares you. The only piece you have left of your hearing ability is slipping from you and you can't stop it. That last piece you hold dear of Kurloz's beautiful voice is disappearing. You lost Kurloz, your losing your mental reminder connecting you to him, and you are done being pushed in this arrangement of stale cat play.

BREAK or MAKE DECISION TIME.

You got the reassurance to push you forward to change how the fuck Kurloz sees you from your most recent encounter with your BFF, Horuss, about how nothing's going to change if you don't do anything. You either need to make up with him or move on past this because you can't hold onto this forever. You are planning to enact on this advice, while you throw Mituna Captor a secret surprise party at the local park.

You and your friends are just a bunch of classy mother fuckers like that. Plus you love causing mischief. (=^ω^=)


	4. End Of Act 1

⇒ Be the Crying burnet haired Boy

You cannot currently be the crying seven year old burnet haired boy running towards concrete stairs with a metal pole usable for holding onto as you walk down them or as a skidding ramp for skate boarding teenagers enjoyment, but wait a moment for him to stop moving around and you will be able to be him. He is emotionally unstable and freaking out about his older brother, Mituna Captor. His vision is blurred about the surroundings that seem to be spinning from tears streaming down from his hetero colored blue and hazel brown eyes, glasses askew on his scrunched up face. His hearing is shot from his mind replaying of the first sickening crack of skull against jagged pavement stairs, and the tumbling body of his seventeen year old brother echoing a similar sound down every step playing in his head. The world that seems unreal as the resounding of his heavy pants and sole focused movements block out the voices screaming and wailing around him from the current incident as he rushes to his brother's side.

Mituna's blood is settling into your bumblebee designed clothes as you settle beside him in the forming puddle. Oozing out of your brother in a thick pool beside his head and leg, it sticks warmly to your skin and drips back to the ground from where your skin comes into contact with it. Mituna's eyes are closed and you don't see him moving at all. You're frozen with fear as you sit beside your brother. Helpless at what to do other than be alongside him, your vision slinks slowly down over him seeing the white and red bone sticking out from his jeans. The sight makes you want to vomit. You have not seen something as horrific as this before in your entire seven years of life.

The closest thing you have experienced to knowing what death is, is that your favorite animal, the bee, dies with qualified easiness from information about your family's personal owned bee farm facility. You are stunned, frozen in fear as the situation finally sets into your mind of what could be happening to your brother right now. Your trembling is fixed to inaccurate paces sent out from within your body and shudders violently shaking you. The engaging off-rhythm beat of your breathing is making your head start to feel light and black dots appearing in your vision.

This wasn't part of the plan! This shouldn't be happening! You didn't mean for this to happen!

This place scares you. You don't want to be here anymore.

⇒ Be the Crying auburn-chestnut haired Boy

You cannot currently be the irate, crying boy with auburn-chestnut hair, running down a brightly lighted hallway, but wait a moment and you will be. He is an emotionally unstable, young child with blurred red vision of frustration. He is rapidly dashing across the usually fascinating black marble floors, which colors converge with the beautiful magenta shaded curtains' and walls'. This, he would normally stop to admire. He passes the distinguishable forced-memorized, framed pictures of the historical figures of his family lineage. They hang on the stretching surface of the walls and he doesn't sparing them a glance as his blue and black striped scarf ends flow after him.

Avoiding the black turtle-neck, long-sleeved shirt, gray pants wearing boy when he becomes like this, is usually the best solution to follow when possible. Though right now the bundle of rage has acquired a target and he is a deadly time bomb being delivered to detonate in front of his Father, in his father's personal office quarters at the end of the hall. You are quite safe to be the boy wearing thick black glasses with his scarf majestically wrapped around his neck, although it's the middle of summer and kind of ridiculous to strut around in, he does it anyway. You sure you really want to be this weird little boy?

⇒Be the weird wearing scarf boy

A few minutes ago you had been walking into the dining room to eat dinner, when informed by your elegantly stylish Nanny Maryam, the infuriating, tragic news. Nanny Maryam has been your second most trusted, choppy short-haired, nursemaid, adviser with a loving motherly touch that has taken care of all your needs to the best of her ability for as long as you can remember. The news that your father has decided you will no longer be able to see or associate with your first most trusted, "swwag" older brother, Cronus Ampora, has sent you on a rampant rage from the dining hall. Your Father is doing this because as he would put it, your brother is an "ill fortune swwept upon the family title and future", and wishes you to avoid going down that same path for your own good.

Your Father, Dualscar Ampora, has made a life changing decision again for his youngest son, heir to the Wisconsin corporation, Empire Fish. You may be five years old, but you are certain that you know what you want or don't want at this age! You are not happy about knowingly being controlled by him, but usually follow his orders because he is your father. And you have never once stood up against his dark forceful image you see or the decisions he makes for you.

Or at least not by yourself, after he has declared it.

You think your brother is amazing for standing against your father alone and has supported your opinion time and time again! He has taught you lots of useful things, like how to tie your shoes, ride the tricycle he got you for your fourth birthday, or how to activate your cute charms to pull women towards you when he sneaks you out to watch newly released comedies at theaters downtown, when he notices one that seems to perk up your interest from a TV commercial when you are together. You never directly ask for anything when you're with your brother because he's already given everything you want! He's a mind reader you think and you've asked him before if he was one, but he just started laughing when you mentioned it.

He bought you an ice cream afterwards because he could tell you were silently pouting.

You love and enjoy being with your big brother very much.

Your father has never done anything like that, which you can think of, that your brother has done for you. He may spend money on you for gifts and cards, but you hardly ever seen him happy and he has not once been seen by you on your birthday. You've heard your brother and father fight many times before, over what you presume is you and it makes you feel sad when you think about it. You secretly sometimes wish that your father could be a lot more like big brother, and hope someday he will be because brother is the best! But right now you're not sad though. You're the 'bad words' your father refers them to as and you've heard your brother use before, "Pissed the Hell Off!"

The rich old redwood colored double-doors fly easily open under the unmerciful force of your five year old boy rage strength, slamming into the walls their hinges are hanging onto with a harsh bang, ringing around the circular room of your father's office with similar colored curtains to the ones in the hall, closing out any possibility of light to wisp in and the floor is a cold blue that makes the magenta stand out. You had screamed out "FATHER!" with as much rage and bitterness you could sink into the name as you had dramatically slammed the office doors open. You don't actually know if he's here or not.

You take it into mind that your father is in the room.

He has seen your display of anger.

He does not look happy or impressed by it.

The darkness of his office is a blaring contrast to the lighted hallway and makes the room look more eerily despairing, as the light from the entrance creeps over his sharp cold magenta eyes glaring at you in the distance of the entrance to his desk. The same color decorates the house in a parade of shades, it is the same coloring of your own eyes, but is frighteningly more intense and terrifying to you.

You mentally flinch and feel sweat start to form on your forehead as your gaze sweeps across his posture and half hidden face. His stance frightens you as usual with him sitting in his desk that is as tall as you are, and the dark enshrouding around him like a powerful cape cascading off any vibe that he feels, and magnifying it by tenfold towards the people who see him. You are shivering a little as your previously wrathful fueled energy you had been storing was mainly descended upon your extravagant opening of the door, while whatever of it was left was slithering away from you, being replaced by the overgrowing urge to fold in upon yourself under your father gaze and vibes vibrating from him towards you.

Gaze and vibes directed only on you.

His back is postured to be bent over with stiffly, tense shoulders forming a sharp square shape over his desk, elbows placed on the dark ebony desk top, his left hand placed on top of his right hand, both glittered and flashing of the gold rings blessed on his hands, and the lower half of his face partially hidden from your view behind his hands. Though you wish he would be covering his whole face, so you wouldn't be caught stricken and stiff in fear as your eyes make contact.

Anger and pure rage are boiling in him from what you can read in his gaze directed at you and they have never been placed on you like this before.

You have never directly seen your brother and him fight, but you really glad you haven't.

Your brother must have been made out of the strongest metal in the world to withstand this crushing full forced gaze. You are to the point of trembling and shivering. You can feel the tears shaping on the ceases of your eyes. His deep, husky voice, asserting out his full authority dripped with ire as he spoke, "Why are you here. You should be eating dinner right now." This was a command, not a question.

This place scares you. You don't want to be here anymore.

⇒ Be the burnet haired boy again

This place scares you. You don't want to be here anymore.

Like your wish being granted by the cruel gods, you're being cradled from looking at the scene displayed in front of you with a single pair of arms and hands laced around from behind you, shielding your view from the now tainted world.

You attempt to struggle away from the arms as you realize their presence around you is lifting you away from your bleeding brother. You cease fighting as your last retained amount of energy slips away from your body and you become aware of the arms you once thought were suffocatingly strong were, are truly shaking, trembling, and weak with constant persistence to retreat from the scene. They have turned you around to face the winning owner against your break away endeavors of the irritating limbs.

A somewhat familiar face with two unique zinging scars lying on the right corner of his forehead snaps into view as your eyes refocus themselves from draining tears. The white guy in tight blue jeans and a white tank top with chestnut hair gelled back, Cronus Ampora, your brother's best friend.

His eyes are puffy red with tears streaming down his face and looks what you think is how you feel, but something seems to flicker of a deeper meaning and difference in emotions through his eyes for your brother. He looks sickly whiter than usual and is starting to talk to you in a voice that is a bit uptight and trying its best to keep the shaking and fear from leaking off of every word, but failing for most of it. "Sollux, vwe hawve to let the people in vwhite take Mituna. They can help him."

You finally take note of the white dressed people he's talking about as his sentence finishes. They are hurriedly, but steadily taking Mituna off the ground on a blue wheeled bed into a white, blue, and red squared shaped car behind Cronus with the flashing of red and blue with the screeching of an ear aching noise from a few vehicles surrounding you making the noise and colors expand and furiously more erratic.

"But-t–" your voice is a hoarse whimpering cry and stutter as tears start to pour a little heavier from your eyes, but Cronus interrupts you before you can ever really start sobbing heavier, "No, Sollux! Vwe must let him go... by himself… he'll be fine vwith the medics." He pauses a moment to abruptly move you both away from the white, red, and blue vehicle moving Mituna inside of its opened back compartment. You're both eyeing him, while they rush him in, but don't see much as Cronus moves both of you further away and catches a breath between his heaving panting and tears, "I need to get you to your parents and let them knovw vwhat's happened here… and that you are safe."

You realize you must have been screaming at some point during your time to and beside your brother, because your throat really hurts when you try to reply and nothing comes out. Cronus is trying to stop his heavy crying and hysteria, knowing you need to be safe with someone rational right now and crazy panicking isn't going to work well for the situation. The white, red, and blue vehicle closes its doors and drives quickly away with the ear splitting screech and colorful flashing lights repeatedly going on as you quickly reach out to grab out onto Cronus. You need something to hold on to.

NOW.

You feel like you'll roll into a little ball on the ground and won't be able to move ever again, if you don't grab onto something. You'll be alone in a pit of sorrow, of pain… of guilt. So, you grab onto Cronus. The only thing helping you now.

Cronus allows you to hug onto him with your small, shivering arms and legs wrapped around his neck and body, like your clinging onto a tree branch upside-down with a hundred yards of distance from a sure death-dropping fall and splat to the hard shattering ground below. He positions an arm under you to keep your weak trembling body in place and sets an arm on your back, making soothing slow circular patterns on it. You can feel slow steady tears falling onto your head, but he isn't making any whimpering or panting noises. He is silent.

You feel something a little different than your gut clenching in pain and self-loathing disgust for yourself, but ignore it.

He ignores the blood coming off of your soaked clothes on to his as you latch closely to his body and your head resting on his shoulder. Your quivers and shuddering have started to fade away. He walks slowly away from the cruel scene replaying in your mind as your sinking eyelids drift you into slumber from the extreme mental, emotional, and physical exhaustion taking over your small body.

You are Sollux Captor and you are at fault for all the mayhem and sadness that has occurred today.

⇒ Be the auburn-chestnut haired boy again. Angst

This place scares you. You don't want to be here anymore.

You want to abscond and be the sad-mad, little boy told by his father to clean his room even though you don't want to, but brace yourself and stand up a little straighter under his gaze as the memory of your brother's face pops into your head reminding you, 'you can be strong, if you hope and believe to be'. He has a wonderful saying you think, and try to follow it the best you can. You want to be like big brother.

With this thought, the anger you once had returns with quickening feet, pushing the fear holding you back out of mind and body. Your father seems to notice the change in your stance and mental front as his glare intensifies a little more on you and his eyebrows draw further down expressing his anger. You persist to challenge him by gracing him with the meanest glare you can spare right back at him.

After a minute or so of a silent glaring contest you speak still holding your glare out against him. Your voice comes out even and driven by an unnegotiable idea, "Father, you will not forbid me from associating with my brother." You hold back from presenting out your accent of doubling your w's and v's and dropping the g on your verbs to show him you are dead serious on following out with this decision and will not back down, even against him.

You were instantly expecting a reaction of anger from him by your invigorating and will-driven choice to oppose against him, but he just sits there silently, his glare still there, facial expression the same. Then his facial expression changes; it scrunches up and eyes close, tilts his head down and drastically sighs. You tense up, and are a little shocked. You don't know how to react to that! You don't know if you should be happy for thinking you won or scared stiff from the unknown reaction as the first warning sign to your wrath filled yelling you are about to be served.

After thinking about it with a little more thought, you can tell his sigh is being used to release out the building up aggravation in him and he moves to sit straight up in his leather rollie chair allowing view of his full facial expression. You don't flinch when you see the dull-pink, parallel zigzagging healed scars sited diagonally across his face. They lace from the top of his right cheek just below his eye as it slices over the ridge of his bridging out nose to the top left of his forehead. You don't know where your father recieved them, but your brother has told you time and time again not to stare at them. Instead you ask him how he got his scars on the right corner of his forehead. He avoids your gaze each time you speak about them and says "Someday, I'll tell ya' 'bout them…" ending the topic discussion.

Father is deeply frowning and the same glaring look replaces itself upon his face, his arms are now laid on the arms of the chair and hands are clenching the ends, while his nails and rings dig in imprints. You know you have not won yet, but you are shaken to the core when he says in a tone that sounds even more determined than yours a few seconds ago, "No, you will stop meeting and correlating with him. You are not being influenced by him in a positive way, and he is clearly not going to stop being a distracting menace to you or me."

The respect you hold for your brother rings out the rage, tears, and shoved away emotions you hide from your father as you scream at him the thoughts that make you feel the need to hide and avoid your father from self-shame for having ever thought them. "BROTHER IS NOT THE MENACE! HE HAS BEEN THERE IN A MORE POSITIVVE WWAY THAN YOU EVVER HAVVE! I HAVVE ALWAYS DONE EVVERYTHING YOU DEMAND BUT NOT THIS, NOT THIS TIME! I WWILL NOT LET YOU TAKE THIS AWWAY FROM ME! WWE WWILL STILL SPEND TIME WITH EACH OTHER WWHETHER YOU WWANT OR NOT!"

The lengthy, tall figure of your father lurks over you as he had apparently shifted from the rollie chair he had been sitting in behind his desk and walked over towards you during your crying rant. His fury is clearly displayed from the light shining into the room and you wish it was either completely dark or completely bright so his features wouldn't be as highlighted, exhibited and defined in the infinite amount of glowing light from the hallway being sucked into the endless void of darkness in the room.

You are panting for breath from your elongated speech and staring directly at him. The pain, the hurt, the anger caused by him clearly showing on your visage as he stands over you, looking down right back at you. You swear you might have seen a hint of regret and pain in his as your eyes make contact, but it doesn't last long as he bends over and roughly hugs you. He whispers, "I'm sorry son." guilt and pain riddling the three words as his scent washes over you. You are shocked stiff and the tears from your eyes seem to pause their constant stream down your face. It is a strong musky smell, but somehow calming as his strong long muscular arms wrap and surround your small stiff arms and body.

You are there for a moment, you try to relax and lean in to return the display of affection, but he quickly lets go and backs off, letting the smile that had been forming on your face fall to a despairing frown. He gets back up with the glaring expression restored to his face causing your heart to clench as he speaks, "But I cannot let you stay involved with your brother." You are shocked once again and your gut is a tight knotted mess filled with painful sharp jabs as you had for a moment believed that your father had magically changed himself and his mind to let you stay with your brother for opening up to him.

He continues to speak, his voice solemn and even as he slowly strides back to his desk, "And to be sure you stay focused, you're going to be sent to an Ireland bordering school for girls and boys." Pauses a moment as he shifts back into his seat and rolls his legs into the open compartment of the desk. Tears are rolling down your face again, head bent down towards the ground in loss and eyes glazed over, staring at really nothing, "I will be going with you to assure you stay focused and… be there for you, if that's what needs to be done." He pauses a moment again to glance over you then return to papers piled on his desk, "Now, go eat dinner Eridan."

You can't do anything other than this.

"Yes, father." Your voice is a flat dead tone as you answer. He seems pleased by your answer and waves you off with a hand then proceeds to clap his hands once, the lights in his office turn on. He's not as scary with the lights on.

You hate sound activated lights.

You turn around to go through the still hanging opened doors of the attempt to show off your power to your father. You slowly walk through the brightly lit hallway from the fake energy above your head. You know it's fake because you can see through the window that the sun is setting and leaving the dark to creep across the land. You are too tired emotionally, physically, and mentally to deal with this battle any longer. You pass the dining room, the pain in your stomach making you want to throw up at even thinking of food.

You retreat to your bedroom to flop onto your bed, to cry, to question why everything like this is happening to you, why dad can't be more understanding, why life is so hard on you, and where brother is when you needed him most. You fall asleep sobbing to yourself of all your miseries in life.

You are Eridan Ampora and you have just lost the first alone battle you have ever made with your father.


End file.
